


Relent

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff and Angst, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Multi, No Smut, Remus Lupin Lives, Sirius Black Lives
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-27
Updated: 2016-12-19
Packaged: 2018-09-02 16:53:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 54,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8675257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Another eighth year fic where Harry and Draco fight constantly then fall in love. Oh, and Luna makes flower crowns. -I was asked to re upload this, so I am, even though it isn't finished. I can't promise that it will ever be finished, mostly because my motivation is so unpredictable. I'll work on it on my own pace, which might be painstakingly slow (or not - like I said, unpredictable.) But either way, it turns out some people enjoyed it and it actually made them feel better so here it is! Also - I've rewritten the bits with smut, because back when I was writing this I found that I was literally forcing myself to write sex scenes, which shouldn't be the case. I'm honestly not comfortable writing them, and I think the story is just as good without sex! I poured my heart, energy, and time into this for months, I spent nights writing for hours, and I'll always be proud of what I wrote, I just don't know if I have that kind of time to finish it off.





	1. Beginnings

Beginnings. 

It was perfectly okay to not be excited to be going back to Hogwarts, he reckoned. Only months before had he witnessed the loss of so many people in his life on those grounds. Hell, he’d witnessed himself dying on the grounds. He had a right to be somewhat dreading his return.

And yet, here he was, back at platform 9¾. This should be a happy moment, he thought idly. He had everything he could really ask for, he had Sirius and Remus, he was going back to finish his education along with a select few of other students who hadn’t the opportunity of a proper seventh year, he even got to spend the summer with his new favorite person in the world, his godson.

All of these things in account, he still wasn’t sure if he could bear to face the castle. He’d have to, he knew, but that didn’t mean he was going to like it.

“You’re worried,” Sirius chimed quietly, leaning into Harry’s ear. “Happen to know you fairly well, Potter. So yes, I can tell. You know it’s going to be okay, it’s been hard for you and I worry like hell about your well being and all, but Moony will be there. And I’ll be there all the time to seeing as my HUSBAND DECIDED TO GO OFF TO WORK EVEN THOUGH WE’VE JUST GOT OUR NORMAL LIVES TOGETHER,” he ended up shouting the last part, making Remus blush wildly.

Sirius was only half kidding, he was happy that he had finally gotten his rightful job as a professor back, but he was not happy that he wouldn’t get to see him everyday. He _had_ waited nearly eighteen years for his beloved domestic lifestyle, couldn’t blame him for wanting to soak it all up.

Harry smiled fondly at the pair of men who had become the closest things to parents Harry had ever known. The Weasleys were lovely and cared deeply about him, but Remus and Sirius were best friends with his parents, it was different. And Merlin knows that the Dursleys hadn’t done the job justice, which Sirius reminded them constantly. He had found a new hobby in sending them howlers once a week.

“I know I’ll be okay, just going to miss you and Teddy is all,” Harry lied. He didn’t know that’d he’d be okay, and it wasn’t just about missing his godfather and godson (although that was part of it). He was mostly concerned about how he would react once he unboarded the train.

Sirius gave him a weak smile, as if to say, _“you’re a bloody liar Potter, but I’ll let this go for now,”_ and pulled him into a great hug.

“Now say goodbye to your godson while I go snog the hell out of my husband while simultaneously scolding him for leaving me,” Sirius said as they separated, practically skipping over to a still blushing Remus.

Harry knelt down in front of the stroller in front of him, “hey T, I’m going to miss you bunches, you know that, don’t you?” He whispered. Teddy drewled in response, lifting up his chubby arms, begging to be held.

Harry picked him up carefully, bouncing him slightly in his arms as the babies tuff of hair changed back and forth between blue and pink. It was like he was constantly indecisive about what color to keep his hair.

“I promise I won’t go absolutely nutters, but only for you, otherwise I probably would,” he whispered, kissing him softly on the cheek. Teddy cooed happily, grabbing at Harry’s glasses.

“I’m going to have to put a sticking charm on these I reckon,” he grumbled, gently pulling his frames from the baby’s firm grasp.

Remus stepped in carefully, smiling at the image of his child and his best friend’s child bonding. This is exactly how he’d always wanted things to be, well minus the untimely deaths of James, Lily, and Teddy’s birth mother, Nymphadora.

“May I?” He asked politely, holding his hands out to his son. Harry nodded, giving Teddy a final kiss before handing him over to his father.

“Well, I think I’m going to board,” he announced, but made no effort at walking towards the train.

“Harry, in order to board, you have to, you know, get on the train.”

“Oh shut it,” Harry laughed, taking one final hug from Sirius, “I’m actually going now, don’t miss me too much.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, kid,” Sirius smiled, waving him off.

Harry’s good mood was already fleeting the moment he stepped on the train. He was welcomed by silence and stares, which he had expected but did not appreciate. He chose to ignore the persistent looks and walked towards the far back compartments that were reserved for the eighth years.

He suddenly wished that he had came with Ron and Hermione. Not because he didn’t want Sirius and Teddy to see him off, but because he wanted someone to walk onto the train with him. He had no idea which compartment to choose, nor where his friends were.

“Harry?”

He turned around quickly to see Ginny standing behind him, carrying an armful of trolley sweets.

“Are you looking for Ron and ‘Mione?” She asked quietly, not making eye contact with him.

He nodded slowly and carefully. They hadn’t talked at all since their breakup, which had ended with no animosity, but still proved to make things awkward.

It wasn’t that he didn’t love Ginny, he loved her a lot, like a sister. A sister that he might of snogged a few times but found that he didn’t really enjoy the romantic company of. He had been so relieved when she revealed she felt the same way about him, it just made things easier.

In fact that was the only easy thing about their breakup, the mutual platonic feelings. What wasn’t easy was explaining to her family that they weren’t actually soulmates. Molly was a bit more than disappointed, seeing as she was nearly ready to plan their wedding. The fact that things were horribly awkward between the two of them wasn’t quite easy either.

“They’re in the compartment to the left, I think they’re sitting with Neville, Dean, and Seamus. I’ll… I guess I’ll be seeing you around?”

“Thank you, yes! I mean yes we will most likely be seeing each other at our school, Hogwarts. I mean yes, I will see you around,” he sputtered, instantly feeling his face grow hot.

She giggled lightly and waved before turning around and heading back towards the prefect compartment. He nearly forgot that she had become Head Girl for Gryffindor.

He finally found his way to the compartment full of familiar faces and felt instant relief rush over him.

“Harry! Haven’t seen you in ages, how has it been, mate?” Seamus exclaimed, standing up to shake Harry’s hand.

“It’s been… good, really good,” he answered, politely taking his hand.

“Excited to be heading back to Hogwarts?” Dean asked, beaming at Harry.

“Of course,” he lied. _No, Dean, I am not excited to go back to Hogwarts. How can any of us be excited to go back there when we’re missing all these people who should be here right now, Collin, Lavender, even Crabbe,_ his thought tangent was cut off by a light tap on his shoulder.

“Harry, you’ve spaced out again,” Hermione whispered, concern written on her face.

“Sorry, just thinking, I’m fine,” he whispered back.

He knew it was just because his friends cared about him, but their constant glances of worry and pity they shared had become annoying rather than endearing. It felt like Harry couldn’t say or do anything without Ron and Hermione having a weird couple staredown as if they were conversing through their minds. It was genuinely freaky at times, and aggravating.

“So who is coming back?” He asked, not really interested but wanting to change the subject.

“Well there’s us,” Neville said, gesturing to the six of them occupying their compartment, “then Padma Patil, Parvati decided to not come back because of Lav-” he cut himself short before finishing his sentence, looking at Harry with a worried glance as if he might burst into tears.

Harry rolled his eyes, “go on.”

Neville nodded, “Andry Morris and Jackson Teall also from Ravenclaw. Delilah Hill, Manning Smith and Stephan Wills from Hufflepuff. Pansy Parkinson, Theodore Nott, Blaise Zabini, and Draco Malfoy from Slytherin,” he finished, still not making eye contact with Harry. This whole “treat Harry like a delicate piece of china” thing was going to get old very quickly, he already sensed it.

Harry nodded, deciding that he was done talking for the time being. It wasn’t rare for him to shut down often now, he found social interactions to be exhausting now and preferred to be left with himself.

He wondered what the rooming situations would be like, there surely wasn’t room in the Gryffindor tower and he assumed the other houses didn’t have enough beds to accommodate their eighth years either. He knew their was a lot of renovations made over the summer seeing as a vast majority of the castle had been destroyed, but it still left him wondering where they could fit four more common rooms with their respective dorms.

“Where are we going to be staying,” Harry blurted, not even realizing he was interrupting a very animated conversation about Neville’s recent misplacement of Trevor.

“Not sure, didn’t say in the letter did it? Imagine they’ll have something sorted out for us,” Ron shrugged.

Harry once again gave him a silent nod, something that was becoming more common for him than talking. The prospect of not knowing where they were being placed made Harry feel even worse, and he found himself in the worst mood he had been in ages. He felt the familiar prickly feeling on his neck, and knew he had to get out of the compartment.

“Bathroom,” he said shakily, clambering out of the crowded compartment quickly. He felt instant relief as he stepped into the hallway, but knew he wouldn’t feel better until he found Remus.

 _Where could he be_ , he thought to himself, shutting his eyes and counting under his breath, a trick that Remus had shown him that summer.

He felt himself run into another body and shot his eyes open, “I-”

And there he was, Draco Malfoy. Harry still couldn’t believe he was coming back to Hogwarts. He knew about this, of course. He sat in at Draco’s trials, in fact he was the one that recommended he not be sent to Azkaban and instead finish his schooling. But standing there in front of him still seemed surreal.

“Oop,” he whispered, stupidly. He was really bad at this social interaction thing.

“Watch it, Potter. Just because you’re the ‘boy-who-lived-again’ doesn’t mean you can go pushing me around,” he drawled, but Harry noticed the faintest smile on his lips.

Harry answered with an awkward laugh, and quickly swerved around him, not forgetting his mission of finding Remus. He would think about the odd interaction later, but right then he needed to get himself sorted out.

He finally found the teachers compartment, but it was already too late, he was breathless and couldn’t speak. He stood in the doorway, staring intently at Remus until he finally looked up. He frowned, grabbed his bag, and followed Harry towards the bathrooms.

“Harry what happened? You don’t have to do this, you know, Sirius would actually love for you to stay with him,” Remus whispered soothingly. That was the best thing about Remus, he had the most calming voice Harry had ever heard, but even now it couldn’t seem to break through his wall of anxiety that was currently building by the second.

Harry just shook his head, still unable to speak, walking faster towards the back of the train.

He bursted into the small bathroom and let out a loud gasp, somewhere between a sob and a scream. He trusted that Remus had known to put a fairly strong silencing charm on the door, considering how loud these episodes tended to get.

Remus stood patiently on the other side of the door, waiting for the worst part of the attack to be over. Harry slowly emerged, looking down at the floor. He face was already tear stained and he was developing a pounding headache from the violent sobbing.

“Take this,” Remus produced a small vial of what Harry recognized as calming drought, “and eat this with it, you know it always works better with chocolate,” he smiled feebly, handing him a chocolate frog. Harry nodded solemnly in answer and shut the door again.

Yes, this is what had become of the wizarding savior of the world, reduced to tears by the smallest triggers. Remus and Sirius had told him numerous times that he shouldn’t be ashamed, they even persuaded him to see a mind healer, but at last minute Harry chickened out. _So much for that Gryffindor bravery,_ he thought, with an ironic laugh.

A gentle knock sounded on the door, “feeling better?”

Harry took a deep breath and stepped out of the cramped bathroom, “yes, thank you.”

Remus gave him a small hug, a grand gesture seeing as he wasn’t quite touchy with anyone but Sirius, “you’re coming to my office after the feast tonight, and we’re going to talk. No excuses,” he said sternly, but his face remained gentle.

Harry could already feel the effects of the calming drought sweeping over him as he laughed lightly, “yes, mum.”

Remus rolled his eyes, “get back to your friends now, and don’t forget to come by after you’ve settled in or I will come find you.”

Harry returned back to the compartment to find everyone wearing their robes already, a sign that they were nearly there. His stomach flipped slightly, but settled once the magic of the potion rushed over him again.

Ron looked up at him with a raised eyebrow to which Harry shook his head, giving him the face that said, _“not talking about this now.”_ Ron nodded in understanding and went on talking about quidditch again.

Harry had just dozed off when the train came to a halt, causing a loud groan to sound from his throat. He hadn’t meant to make his disinterest of school that noticeable, but it slipped in his tired stupor. Luckily for him, no one seemed to comment for once.

The carriage ride was odd, especially since a vast majority of students could see the thestrals now. Their horrified looks was just another reminder to Harry of what had occurred only months before. He hadn’t even seen the castle yet and he was already feeling exponentially more solemn than he had all summer.

He felt a gentle hand give his knee a supportive squeeze and knew it was Hermione, he turned to smile at her in thanks. If there were any two people who had any idea how he was feeling, it was Ron and Hermione. As much as their constant worrying drove him crazy, they were what he had. They were the only ones who were there for everything, and they were still the only ones who knew everything about the horcruxes.

Thinking about this made Harry feel a twinge of guilt. They loved him so much and shared everything with him, but he was still so hesitant about so much. He still hadn’t told them about how he actually did die in the forest - if only for a moment, but he was still dead. He hadn’t told them that some days he wished he hadn’t come back, but he wasn’t even sure if he truly felt that way. When he thought about those things, he figured it was just the panic attack talking, not him.

“Harry, mate, we’re here,” Ron whispered as they pulled up to the giant doors. Harry noted that they were brand new, and he felt like something was missing, like this wasn’t Hogwarts. He wasn’t sure if that made things better or worse.

The feast went on as usual, except for the seating arrangements. The eighth year students shared a table despite being different houses. _Surely they wouldn’t be sharing everything_ he thought, _there would be some house segregation._

He ended up being very, very wrong.

“In spirit of true unity, all of you will be sharing one common room, and I’ve put a list of the room assignments up in said common room. As of now, you no longer belong to a house. You are of course still encouraged to have house spirit as an alumni, but their will be no segregation determined by where you were sorted eight years ago. Do I make myself clear?”

The group of eighth years were standing in front of McGonagall on the seventh floor, in front of a painting that Harry presumed to be the entrance to their common room, much like Gryffindors. The students mumbled an agreement, but he knew that McGonagall’s idea of unity and peace would not run well with everyone.

He wondered idly if she would have been kind enough to at least sort their rooms by their old houses, but he knew that she hadn’t. She was serious about this inter-house mingling situation.

“The password is ‘flamingo’, and the rules stand the same as always, although your curfew is now at eleven. I trust that you all will cause little to no trouble,” she said with a stern look. They all nodded in unison, eager to see their new home and find out who they were rooming with.

“Well, I suppose that is all, have a good night,” and with that, she was transformed into a cat and running down the hall.

“Have you realized that our headmistress is a bloody cat?” Ron asked, staring as McGonagall in feline form scurried down the hallway towards her office.

“At least this place hasn’t gone to the _dogs_ AMIRIGHT? HIGH FIVE!” Seamus yelled, running up to Dean for his high five. Harry suddenly felt a lot better about the entire situation. Hogwarts seemed to be so different he didn’t even feel the anxiety he was sure he would have, and his friends were going back to being more relaxed around him. It was pure bliss.

They climbed through the portrait after Delilah Hill from Hufflepuff shouted flamingo with almost too much enthusiasm. They were greeted by the most neutral room Harry had seen in Hogwarts. He had grown accustomed to house colors being everywhere, but now he was standing in a room decked in rich purple with crystal clear accents. The familiar banners of each house were now replaced with one large banner, a symbol of a unicorn adorning the rich fabric.

The furniture reminded him a bit of the Gryffindor common room except in the purple hues that were an obvious pattern. Walls of books littered the walls, probably for a sense of familiarity for the Ravenclaws. He also noted there were plenty of potted plants for the Hufflepuffs, and a small aquarium of odd sea creatures for the Slytherins. McGonagall definitely put a lot of thought into the project, and he felt a warmth spread over his body. Maybe this year really wasn’t going to be so bad.

“Oh, _lovely,_ ” he heard a snarl coming from the center of a room where everyone was gathered. He had completely forgot about the room assignments.

Ron leant over to look at the paper and let out a boom of a laugh. _Oh great, this can’t be good,_ Harry thought. Maybe things weren’t going to turn out as well as he hoped. “What’s so funny?” Harry asked, keeping his voice light even though he was experiencing inner turmoil.

“Mate, this has to be a sick joke, McGonagall has gone absolutely _mad_ in her old age. Take a look for yourself,” Rong laughed, barely able to gasp out the words.

Harry groaned, he knew what was coming but he had to see it for himself.

 _“Room 8: Draco Malfoy & Harry Potter” _ He closed his eyes, not only did he have to room with Malfoy, but they had the room with the furthest climb. So much for a great year afterall.

“I have to go see Rem,” Harry saw a flash of worry in Ron’s eyes and scowled, “I’m fine, he just wanted me to come by to talk about the train incident.”

“I hope you know that I want to talk about it to when you get back, and ‘Mione will as well,” he said, his voice low so no one else could hear. Harry nodded and rushed out of the common room that he loved only minutes ago. It was already tainted. How disappointing.

“Ah good, I didn’t have to hunt you down,” Remus greeted him with a smile.

“You could have told me about the living situation,” Harry complained, his stomach knotting as the words flew out of his mouth.

Remus raised an eyebrow, “I still haven’t a clue what the living situation is, McGonagall kept it under wraps,” he said calmly.

Harry let out a deep sigh, “I’m sorry, shouldn’t have attacked you like that.”

“Forgiven, may I ask what about the living situation has you so upset?”

“Well the common room is like a big stirring pot of the different houses, a bit of everyone’s trademark things in each. Comfy couches from Gryffindor, aquariums for Slytherin, plants for Hufflepuffs, books for Ravenclaw. Oh and everything is this lush purple color, with crystal accents and our mascot is a bloody _unicorn_ and it just screams ‘magical’”

“I take it you don’t like purple? Or unicorns? It sounds like a fantastic room, why are you so upset?” Remus asked, looking confused.

“No, it’s not the common room, the common room is fantastic. It’s my bloody roommate. I think McGonagall has lost it! We’re going to kill each other!” Harry blurted out before he could stop himself. He felt his body shudder at the word “kill.”

“Ah, so your roommate is Draco, I believe?”

Harry flushed, “how’d you know?”

“Mr.Malfoy seems to have a certain effect on you, it isn’t hard to guess. A word of advice; be civil, you don’t have to become best friends with him, but it is important to ‘play nice’ so to speak. We want to put this war behind us, no?”

Harry whined a bit but nodded. He knew he was going to have to get along with Malfoy to some extent, otherwise they would both end up seriously injured.

“Back to the reason I asked you to pay me a visit. Explain what happened today on the plane, what triggered those emotions?” His voice was soft and gentle, something he’d probably picked up to do from another muggle psychology book. Since Harry was too afraid to bring his problems to a professional, Remus had taken it upon himself to learn the basics of being a mind healer. Not only for Harry, but for Sirius and sometimes even himself.

“Well, I was a bit wound up all day, wasn’t I?” He smiled weakly, “and then I got on the train, everyone was staring, of course. And even worse, all my friends were treating me like fragile post, it’s humiliating. And then I started worrying about the rooming situation of all things and that was end game, that’s when I came and found you,” Harry struggled to not let everything out on one breath, something they had worked on.

Remus nodded, but didn’t say anything. These “sessions” as he called them were just for Harry to vent mostly, because God, did he need to vent.

“It’s just so frustrating, I’m frustrating. I get upset when they act like nothing’s happened but I also get upset when they bring it up at all. I don’t even understand why. Dean was talking about how excited he was to get back to Hogwarts and I felt like punching him in the face because I couldn’t stop thinking about everyone who didn’t get to come back with us. I even felt bad for Crabbe, and he tried to kill me!” Harry was crying now, something he only did in front of Remus and occasionally Sirius. It was still hard for him to let go, even after the gentle reassurance he received from both men.

“It’s okay to not understand yourself Harry, I don’t expect you will for a very long time. You had a shit year, well if I’m being honest, a shit life. You’ll get through this, you have a great support system and you’re a strong person by nature. You get that from your parents,” he smiled softly at Harry, his own eyes watering at the rims.

He didn’t say it often, but he was proud of Harry. He and Sirius missed out on so much because of the circumstances of war, and now he finally got to know Harry. He just wished that James and Lily could be there to see what a great man he was becoming.

“Don’t get sappy on me, Moony,” Harry whispered, a playful smile on his face, and for a moment, Remus swore James was sitting right in front of him.

Harry found himself finally back at the common room. After an hour spent in Remus office talking about his feelings and his parents, he was ready to have a light conversation. His friends on the other hand, were in the mood for something deeper.

“Harry I really wish you’d let us help you,” Hermione frowned. He had heard the phrase millions of times, it was almost as if those words strung together meant nothing anymore.

“I’m not keeping this in, if that’s what you both think. I talk to Remus about everything, we cry together and I get it all out, what more do you want?”

“We want you to talk to _us_ Harry. I’m glad you’re talking to Remus but don’t you think you’d benefit from sitting down and discussing last year with the people who were with you the whole time?” Hermione was crying now, which was just great.

Harry sighed, “if I promise to have a sit down with the two of you where we all cry about our troubled memories, will you please let me be for the night? I want to talk about something with absolutely no meaning, I can’t think anymore.”

Ron and Hermione nodded, understanding that they shouldn’t push his limits anymore. They had gotten quite good at sensing when Harry was ready to blow.

“So I got roomed with Theo Nott, do you reckon he’s going to snore?” Ron began, before going on a rant about how Gryffindors and Slytherins rooming together should be illegal. Harry instantly felt better as he slipped into the mindless conversation.

He tried to stay in the common room for as long as possible, he was dreading going to his room where he knew Malfoy was probably already sleeping. He contemplated camping out on the couch, but decided against it in favor of not having a sore back in the morning.

He finally climbed up the unnecessary amount of stairs it took to get to his landing, and hesitated before opening the door. It was nearly three AM, he had to be asleep, but yet Harry felt like he was butting in on something. He pushed through, ignoring the slight raise of anxiety.

And there he was, the bane of his existence, and he was bloody sleeping like a normal person! For whatever reason, he had expected him to be the type to sleep as if he was in a coffin, but the boy that laid on the purple sheets was sprawled out so that he had one limb on every corner of the bed. His face was smashed against the pillow, making his lips pucker slightly, and his usually pristine hair was mussed up from sleep.

He couldn’t believe this was the same Malfoy that walked the halls with his head held high and his posture always perfect. The same Malfoy who never spoke with ill grammar and had a vocabulary that could battle Hermione’s. The same Malfoy who was a death eater. Harry grimaced at the last thought, even though he knew Draco was completely reformed. He even witnessed him swear under veritaserum that he no longer had the same beliefs that had been instilled in him since birth.

He knew that he had changed, but he hadn’t really believed it until that moment, seeing him asleep just like anyone else.

Maybe they could get along.


	2. Compliance

Compliance.

Draco woke up not remembering his surroundings. The purple hue was almost sickening, and the unicorns plastered everywhere was just tacky. Not to mention the man that was sleeping in the bed next to his, curled up in an impossibly small ball. His legs were tucked up against his chest and his arms wrapped around them. Draco couldn’t even see his face as it was covered by his mess of curly hair.

He let out a strangled yawn and sat up in the admittedly comfortable bed. The clock on the wall read 4:30 AM and he let out a groan. Sleep was rare for him ever since the war, he had only been asleep since two and now he was wide awake once again.

Deciding to make the best of unpleasant situation, he stalked to the showers to use up the hot water before anyone else could. He preferred his showers in peace anyways, rather than fighting with all the other boys over who got the largest stall.

As he washed his hair his mind wandered to the Potter that he ran into on the train. He was surprised to see that his face was horribly paled and lip quivering. It almost made Draco stop and ask him what was wrong - almost. He decided against it once he remembered that Potter was still his sworn enemy, even if he himself had changed his ways.

In theory, they could get along just fine. Draco was no longer immature about blood purity, much to the dismay of his father. He even found himself befriending muggle borns, specifically Granger. He wasn’t sure how it had happened but they ended up in a hour long conversation about _“The Theory of Mythical Science”_ and he had actually enjoyed it thoroughly. He had never had friends who were at the same interest in studies as he, and it was refreshing to have a conversation that didn’t revolve around sex or alcohol.

Despite his recent fondness of Granger, he still wasn’t fond of Potter. He was so sick of his weird hero complex, and everyone constantly referring to him as the savior of the wizarding world. To him he was still a pretentious prat, and he was quite happy with Potter feeling the same towards him thankyouverymuch. A truce was not something he was planning on.

* * *

By the time Harry had woken up at seven, the bed next to his was empty and neatly made. He figured Malfoy would be an early riser, but damn, it was _really_ early.

His shower ended up being quick and cold, seeing as everyone else decided to shower at the same time as him. He was far from refreshed when he finally met Ron and Hermione in the common room, ready to head to breakfast.

“How late did you stay up, Harry?” Hermione asked, examining his dark circles.

“Mmm, not too late,” he answered, avoiding the question.

She raised a thin eyebrow at him but decided against saying anything more, which Harry was extremely thankful for.

“So how was Malfoy?” Ron asked, an amused smile on his face.

Harry rolled his eyes, “I actually haven’t said a word to him this entire time, he was asleep when I went to bed and gone when I woke up. I expect that’s how things are going to be and I have no complaints,” he shrugged. As long as they weren’t fighting, Harry was fine with no talking.

“He’s actually quite nice,” Hermione whispered, twirling a piece of curly hair in her fingers.

Ron stopped in the middle of the hallway and clutched his chest, “ _Malfoy?_ Are we talking about the same bloke you punched in the face? Who are you and what have you done with my girlfriend?”

Hermione scowled, “we had a pleasant conversation yesterday while Harry was with Remus and you were too busy talking about quidditch. He was very polite, and yes, he was nice.”

Ron shook his head, “unbelievable,” he muttered.

Harry on the other hand, was amazed. Draco Malfoy was being nice to _his_ friends? For whatever reason he felt his anger build up inside him. It was just like sixth year, he felt like Draco was up to something, and he was going to find out.

“Harry, mate, why do you look constipated?” Neville asked as he ran up behind them, his tie askew.

“Him and Ron are throwing a hissy fit because I had a civil conversation with Malfoy,” Hermione answered, rolling her eyes.

“You _what?_ ”

“Merlin, Neville, not you too!” She groaned. “He’s actually quite nice to talk to. You three should try it,” she huffed as she walked ahead of them, head held high with annoyance.

“She’s gone mad! Have all the women at this school gone mad!?” Ron exclaimed, trying to catch up with Hermione.

“But really Harry,” Neville started as Ron ran after his girlfriend, “is Malfoy horrible? Does he talk about dark magic in his sleep?”

Harry couldn’t help but laugh, especially after he had seen the way Draco really looked while he slept. He was now convinced that Draco couldn’t hurt a fly.

“He’s fine Nev, a git as usual, but he’s not evil I guess.”

Neville nodded slowly, “okay, just you know, be careful and all that.”

“You know me, impossible to be careful. But I’ll do what I can,” Harry smiled.

“Oh I know, well I’ve got to go, Luna wants me to sit with her at Ravenclaw,” Neville muttered, his face blushing bright red.

Harry laughed softly, patting Neville on the back, “go get ‘er tiger.”

For a second Harry missed Ginny. Well, not really Ginny herself as much as a relationship. He spotted Ron and Hermione who seemed to have made up already, seeing as they were whispering into each other’s ears and giggling. Even Luna and Neville were making things work somehow. He wondered for a second if he’d made a mistake when he broke up with Ginny.

He walked over to the seat his friends had saved him and still wondered idly about the decision he was so sure about at the time it was made. He was still daydreaming when Sirius’ owl dropped a small package and a few letters in front of him.

The package itself was quite heavy, and he decided to wait until he read the letters before opening it. Knowing Sirius, it’d be some crazy family heirloom or illegal magical object that should be kept hidden. Instead he flipped through the letters, reading Sirius’ first that clearly stated to not open the package in front of anyone, save for Hermione and Ron. The other was from McGonagall, asking him to come visit her in her office during his break period. He groaned quietly.

As much as Professor McGonagall loved and cared about him, which Harry knew to be true, she tended to be a bit overbearing at times. She was constantly pushing Harry to figure out what he wanted to do with the rest of his life, and sometimes Harry just wanted to live in the moment. He had spent far too long worrying about his future, couldn’t he just have a year to be a real teenager?

But of course, Harry Potter was not your average wizard, or so everyone said. No, he just had to be the baby in the damn prophecy. Sometimes, he wished it was Neville rather than him, but he always took it back. He couldn’t wish the death of both parents on anyone, let alone Neville. And it wasn’t like Neville didn’t go through a bunch of shit his entire life either.

So here he was, the boy who defeated the darkest wizard of all time, and everyone was anxiously waiting for his next move.

“Seen the Prophet this morning, mate?” Ron asked, a spoonful of porridge in his mouth.

“You know I am firmly against the Prophet, of course I haven’t seen it.”

“You’re on the front page,” he shrugged, “want to see my copy?”

Harry sighed but nodded. Making the front page had become something of a regular occurrence, it seemed he couldn’t do anything without paparazzi watching his every move.

 _“The-Boy-Who-Lived with Illegitimate Child?”_ The title read, and underneath was a picture of him bouncing Teddy and smiling. It would’ve been a cute picture, had it not been taken without his permission and twisted to fit an interesting story.

The fact that they had posted a picture of his godson without consent was enough to send Harry reeling. He stood from the table, still clenching the paper in his hand.

“I’ll be late to herbology,” he muttered through gritted teeth. Hermione and Ron nodded, not wanting to argue.

He stormed up to McGonagall’s office, giving the goblin the password she had written on her note. Sitting in the chair in front of her desk happened to be Malfoy, and he didn’t look pleased.

“Mr.Potter, you’re here rather early. Do you not have herbology right now?” The headmistress asked calmly.

“No. Well yes, I do, but I needed to come straight away. They put me in the Prophet today!”

She raised a thin eyebrow, “you make appearances in the Prophet quite often from what I see. I’m sorry to say that I don’t see why this is stopping you from reporting to your first class of the term.”

Harry took a deep breath, thinking of the calming exercises him and Remus had learned over the summer.

“Yes, it’s just, today they also released a photo of Teddy with me. I’m fine if they use my photos without my consent, but Teddy is a _child,_ ” he explained.

She nodded in understanding, “I understand why you’re upset, but I assure you that the child’s father will handle the press. Professor Lupin is surely just as angry as you are.”

Harry frowned, remembering that he had just interrupted her meeting with Malfoy.

“I’m really sorry for popping in like this, I just got upset and couldn’t stop myself. I’ll be going to class now, and then I’ll be back for our scheduled meeting.”

Malfoy let out a loud sigh, “this has to do with him as well, why not just talk to us both together?”

Harry paused in the doorway, what on Earth could McGonagall want between Harry and Draco? Maybe he was trying to switch rooms, but why would she have scheduled separate meetings?

“It’s simple really, nothing to be worried about in the least. You’re both looking for careers as aurors after school, and each of you have a special talent that is worthy of sharing with each other. It is mutually beneficial, to say the least.”

“Harry, you’ll be tutoring Draco in patronus work and how to communicate via patronus. Draco, you’ll be returning the favor by teaching Harry legilimency and occlumency,” she finished.

Harry felt his face pale. His thoughts sprung back to his occlumency lessons with Snape that he had somehow endured fifth year. He had decided then that he’d never make an effort to learn the trade again.

“I don’t want to learn occlumency.”

McGonagall frowned, “in order to be a good auror, it is important to be more than proficient at both legilimency and occlumency.”

“Then I won’t be an auror,” Harry answered. The words stung his throat as they came up and left a bad taste in his mouth. He knew he wanted to be an auror, he always had, but he couldn’t bear to go through lessons again. Especially with Malfoy.

“I didn’t want to do this Harry, but your lessons with Mr.Malfoy are mandatory. I was hoping that you would agree voluntarily, but seeing as you aren’t I’ll have to enforce them,” McGonagall explained, her expression unfaltering.

“Then I suppose I should pack my things,” he answered curtly, standing up and rushing out of the office.

He practically ran to Remus’ classroom, praying that his class had already been excused. To his dismay it had not and he had ran into a class full of curious first years. He closed his eyes and stood in the doorway as they all whispered his name, chatting to each other about he was the one who “saved the world.” It was practically enough to make Harry sick.

Remus looked up from the student he was helping and saw Harry standing there, hands stuffed in his pockets with his eyes screwed shut. He excused himself quickly, leading Harry into a quiet alcove.

“She wants me to study occlumency,” he let out in one breath.

Remus nodded, “I thought you’d be upset.”

“You knew!? And you didn’t try to persuade her against the idea?” He asked, feeling anger boil inside him.

“I was the one who suggested it, Harry. I know you had a bad experience, but you’re older now. Stronger. You can handle this.”

“Oh were you also the one who recommended Malfoy as my teacher? Did you also volunteer me to teach him to produce a patronus?” Harry was yelling now, his anger spilling over the edge as the betrayal sank into his veins.

Remus on the other hand, remained calm. He casted a quick silencing spell sans wand, and continued his explanation.

“Draco, from what I understand, is the best there is at Hogwarts. He also has no reason to torture you, as Snape thought he did. And he is very much looking forward to you teaching him about patronuses.”

Harry’s face shot up, “how do you know that?”

“McGonagall sent me a note as you were walking down here, Draco is still in the office and he’s quite upset that you want to leave. Harry, you do realize I’m not going to let you leave over this,” Remus added calmly, his expression soft but stern.

Harry took a deep breath, “I know i’m overreacting but sixth year was just horrible. I don’t ever want to think about anything that happened that year again, and occlumency was one of the worst things.”

Remus frowned, “I agree that that year was horrible, but I do believe you can push through these fears so that you can grow as a wizard.”

Harry had nearly forgot that when he almost lost Sirius at the ministry that fateful night, Remus nearly lost the love of his life. It killed Harry to think about the two being separated now.

He let out a sigh, “I’ll try, okay. But if I hate it, and McGonagall still insists I learn in order to stay, I won’t think twice about leaving. I’ll be back at Grimmauld Place before anyone could stop me.”

“All we ask is that you try, Harry. Now you should head back up to the office and apologize, I’ve got a class to attend to. Are you going to be okay?”

Harry nodded, smiling feebly at Remus. He was really lucky to have him around.

* * *

Back at McGonagall’s office, the two still sat exactly where Harry had left them.

“Um, I’m sorry for my immaturity. Just got a bit stressed over the thought of occlumency. My sincere apologies,” he muttered, looking down at the floor.

McGonagall offered him a small smile, “apology accepted, Potter. Now, I want the two of you to start practicing immediately, so take some time to plan out a schedule for the two of you to meet. I will be expecting updates periodically, so don’t be surprised if I call either or both of you in from time to time. You are excused.”

Harry and Draco nodded politely, and left the office. Before Harry could turn towards his classroom, he was being pushed against the wall, grey eyes glaring into his green.

“You will _not_ mess this up, Potter. As of right now you’re the only one I have that can teach me to produce a patronus and I need to be able to do so. I don’t care if you’ve got a stick up your arse about occlumency for whatever reason. You will pretend to love every second that I’m teaching you. Meet me after dinner in the dorm, we’ll discuss meeting times,” he growled, before giving Harry a final shove and walking away.

Harry rubbed his shoulder as he stared at the tall boy who was now walking in the opposite direction. Everything seemed like a switch with him. Here Hermione was portraying him as some sort of intelligent angel, but just seconds ago he looked as if he might kill Harry. And now he’d have to be working with him, one on one? Surely the entire school had gone crazy.

He decided to go ahead and skive herbology all together, seeing as there was only twenty minutes left anyways. Surely Ron or Hermione would have taken satisfactory notes on whatever it was they were studying. Right now, all he wanted was to go back to the common room and sulk.

Shortly after his arrival, his sulking session was interrupted by his friends, as usual.

“You never showed up to herbology, did you go set the Prophet office on fire or something?” Ron asked as he sat down his things, plopping down on the couch Harry was curled up on.

“Nah, McGonagall needed to see me anyways,” he started, hesitating over whether or not he should tell them about the meeting. It really wouldn’t be fair to keep yet another secret from them, he decided.

“Malfoy and I have to work together on special projects,” he finally admitted.

Ron’s jaw dropped and Hermione produced the smallest hint of a smile.

“Now why do you have to do that!?” Ron asked, gazing at Harry in bewilderment.

“I have to teach him the ins and outs of patronuses, and he has to teach me legilimency and… occlumency,” the last word came out like sick. Harry scrunched his nose up in disgust.

“Oh Harry,” Hermione shot him a worried glance, “you must be so worried. Snape absolutely ruined occlumency for you!”

Harry shrugged, “I have to suck it up anyways, it’s mandatory for whatever reason. It can’t be as bad as what I went through sixth year, especially since I’ve more control over my own mind now. Just not excited I have to work with Malfoy.”

Hermione bit her lip, “I know you won’t like hearing this, but you’re quite lucky to be working with Draco. He’s very gifted in both legilimency and occlumency, it’s a Malfoy tradition.”

“So now he’s Draco, is he? Why don’t you go marry him then,” Ron spat, his face growing red with anger.

“Oh, Ronald. Don’t be silly, I have no interest in dating him. Nor does he, I suspect that I’m not his type.”

Ron let out a huff but seemed to ease. He had gotten a lot better with his jealousy problems after the war, but they still haunted him from time to time.

“So how was herbology?” Harry asked, eager to change the subject.

“Same as usual really, except Neville teaches the eighth years in the old greenhouse seeing as Professor Sprout is rather busy with her other classes. It’s actually a bit more fun with Nev, he’s a bloody good teacher,” Ron said, finally out of his jealous state.

“He was quite brilliant, wasn’t he? We’ll have to tell him over lunch,” Hermione added.

“Speaking of lunch, can we head there now? I’m starving,” Ron complained, holding a hand on his stomach.

* * *

The rest of the afternoon and evening passed by more quickly than Harry had hoped. He was not looking forward to his meeting with Draco in the slightest. He had spent most of the day in bliss, knowing that it would probably be the last he would have in a long while. After a game of chess with Ron, going over herbology notes with Hermione, and eating a very slow paced dinner, he finally climbed up to his dorm.

Draco sat in the middle of his still perfectly made bed, legs folded. He had thin rimmed glasses on and seemed to be studying some sort of potions book. Harry hadn’t recognized it, so it must have been casual reading for him. Harry couldn’t help but think it was something very Slytherin of him.

He looked up from his book when Harry cleared his front quietly. A pleasant look was plastered on his face, one that Harry had never seen. He looked so peaceful, unlike how he held himself around others. When he noticed Harry staring however, his expression hardened once more.

“I’d quite like to get back to my book, so let’s get this over with,” he sighed, gesturing for Harry to sit on the bed with him.

Harry hesitated a second, but then quickly toed off his shoes before joining him.

“Okay so, do you have your schedule?” Draco asked, flicking a piece of blonde hair from his forehead. Harry noted that his hair was much longer now, and seemed to be a bit paler as well.

“Yea, let me just,” he pulled out his wand and gave it a small flick, and the parchment came flying onto the bed.

Draco raised an eyebrow, “you’ve mastered wordless magic?”

Harry felt himself blushing, “yeah, I didn’t go out much after the… I stayed in and practiced magic with Remus mostly. I can do most spells without speaking now,” he shrugged. He had forgotten how impressive it was that he was able to do it so easily now. Most students didn’t get the hang of it until their seventh year.

Draco nodded, and examined their schedules. Harry almost felt upset that he hadn’t commented on his recent accomplishment, but then he remembered that they were sworn enemies. He obviously didn’t care to compliment Harry on anything.

“Okay, so it seems that we both have Wednesday, and Thursday evenings free, and there’s the weekend as well. I’d like to have as much time to myself as possible on the weekends, though. So do you think twice a week will suffice?” He asked, not looking up from the parchment.

“That should be fine, if either of us need extra practice we can always schedule an impromptu meeting for weekends every once in awhile,” he thought for a second, “I’ll take Wednesdays,” he added.

“That’s fine with me. Now I’m going to go back to my book, move along, Potty,” he said, shooing him off his bed.

Harry rolled his eyes, leave it to Malfoy to ruin a perfectly civil conversation with a stupid nickname. He glanced at the clock and noted that it was already nine. Suddenly he remembered that he had only slept four hours the night before.

He picked up his pajamas and wondered for a second if it was too soon to change in front of his new roommate. The boys he shared a dorm with at Gryffindor had all gotten over the nervousness of changing in front of each other by the second week, but this was Draco. They probably didn’t even wear pajamas at Slytherin, just slept in their robes. Harry chuckled softly at the image of the five Slytherin boys lined up in a neat row, sleeping in black coffins like vampires.

But Draco had worn pajamas the night before, so obviously that wasn’t true. _Oh fuck it,_ he decided and started to pull off his green jumper with a snitch on it.

“Must you strip in the middle of our room, Potter?” Draco’s voice drawled as he looked up from his book.

“I know I’m beautiful and you’re probably jealous, but the walk to the bathrooms is too bloody far and I’m exhausted. Get used to it,” he snapped back.

Draco rolled his eyes dramatically and went back to his reading as Harry continued to undress. He couldn’t help but smirk to himself, if he was going to room with Malfoy, he was going to be as annoying as possible.

* * *

_The forest was dark, darker than he had remembered it. The only thing he could see were two bloodshot eyes. He felt his eyes close and he prayed that when he opened them it would be different, he wouldn’t be alone._

But when he opened them, he still stood there with nobody by his side, instead he was greeted by the familiar sound of parseltongue, except this time he couldn’t understand it.

He let out a strangled cry, hoping someone would come for him. All he got in return was an evil laugh.

“You really thought you could get rid of me? I will never die,” a familiar voice hissed, sending shivers down Harry’s back.

A flash of green light burned his eyelids before he could even draw his wand.

His own scream woke him up, and he cursed himself for it. He was never going to hear the end of this. Draco probably heard him whimpering and screaming in his sleep, something Harry was not proud of.

“Harry?” A small voice whispered. Harry’s head shot to the direction of Draco’s bed, he was still sat up reading.

“I-” Harry started to say, but his voice caught and he shut his mouth quickly before sobs poured out of him.

Draco frowned, “wait just a second.” He stood up, and Harry noticed he still hadn’t changed out of his day clothing. He glanced at the clock, it was three in the morning, why was he still awake?

“Here,” Draco muttered, shoving a small vial towards Harry. He must have noticed Harry’s nervous glance because he scowled.

“I’m not trying to poison you, Potter. It’s my own mixture of dreamless sleep and calming drought, you’ll dream but they’ll be pleasant and you won’t be absolutely knackered in the morning,” he explained.

Harry nodded and took the bottle in shaky hands, at that point he didn’t care if Draco put him in a coma, he just wanted to go back to sleep.

He watched as Draco climbed onto his bed once again, and continued to read the book. It seemed he was almost finished and Harry couldn’t help but wonder when the boy slept. Before he could ask Draco the question, however, he found himself falling into a restful sleep.

 


	3. Detente

**Detente**   
Harry woke up hours later from a much more pleasant dream, and he felt more refreshed than he had in what seemed like centuries. It wasn’t until he remembered exactly what happened the night before that the embarrassment set in. Malfoy surely wasn’t going to let this go.

But another part of him had to wonder, maybe he would just let this go. Hadn’t he been the one to give Harry the potion last night, and bloody hell, hadn’t he referred to him by his first name? Now Harry felt like _he_ was going insane. He reasoned that he must have fell into an alternate universe at some point before his return to Hogwarts. 

He quickly glanced over to the bed beside him, relieved to find that it was as empty as it had been the day before. He decided that avoiding Malfoy would be the best route to take for the day at least. 

His plans were quickly foiled when he remembered he had double potions with Slytherin. 

Much like his other classes, the eighth years still sat in with their respective houses in most lessons, they were just given much less guidance and much more freedom. Because of this, the eighth years from the two houses were pushed to the back of the class, much to Harry’s annoyance. 

It wouldn’t have been so bad hadn’t Ron and Hermione immediately took seats next to each other, leaving Harry next to any empty chair. Being the third wheel was already getting old, he realized. 

As he took out his cauldron he felt another body at the table. He turned to smile, expecting Neville or Seamus, but instead he was greeted by blinding blonde hair and grey eyes. 

Malfoy looked beyond annoyed, “Potter, you’re going to catch flies if you don’t stop gaping. I’ve no where else to sit since Pansy has decided to go after the girl Weasel, and this seat was open,” he paused for a second, “shouldn’t we be playing nice anyways? We are training partners now.” 

Harry wasn’t sure what to comment on first, the fact that Pansy was going after his ex girlfriend or that Malfoy had just suggested playing nice. 

“Don’t call her that,” he settled on. 

Malfoy raised an eyebrow, “still so protective I see. Must be the Gryffindor in you. Worry not, Potter. Pansy knows how to treat a lady.” 

Harry wanted nothing more than to punch the stupid sly smile off of his new “partner’s” face, but decided against it. They were in the middle of class, after all. Instead he ignored his comments and turned to his work. 

“Not even going to argue back, Potter? Have you lost your touch?” Draco asked in mock worry, placing a hand over his heart. 

Harry rolled his eyes but didn’t look up from his cauldron still. _Now is as good of time as ever to practice self control, I suppose,_ he thought. 

The blonde must have got the hint that Harry didn’t want anything to do with his attempts at bickering, so he turned to his own cauldron instead, somewhat annoyed that Potter didn’t take his bait. 

The class continued on like that, both of them in silence with growing tension in between them. The more Harry thought about who was sitting to his right, the more frustrated he got. By the time they were excused, he was storming down the hallway. 

He wasn’t sure of the exact reason why he was so angry. He was hurt that Ron and Hermione sat together, not even bothering to wonder who Harry sat with. He was annoyed with Malfoy and his stupid attempts at fighting. He was jealous of Pansy, even though he knew she didn’t have a chance with Ginny, and he had no interest in being with her anyways. 

The anger boiled low in his stomach and he wanted nothing more than to much something, so he worked his way to the seventh floor. 

It hadn’t occurred to him that the room itself might not have been repaired during renovations, seeing as not many people were aware of it’s existence. Still, Harry found himself standing outside a familiar looking door. 

He wasn’t afraid of what might lie behind the door per say, he was afraid of the memories that would come along with it. He took a deep breath and prayed that McGonagall knew of it’s existence and had it fixed. 

To his relief, the room seemed to be in working condition, just as it had been before the war. He stepped into a room that reminded him vaguely of the one that had been produced for DA meetings, only a touch smaller. There were plenty of things to do, even some weights and punching bags that most wizards wouldn’t even know what to do with. 

His smile grew as he jumped right into training. It was liberating to fire spells freely and he found that his body had been aching to use magic like this again. There was something completely different about the way it felt to use defensive battle spells rather than the everyday spells he had grown accustomed to. 

By the time he left the room it had grown dark, and he realized he probably missed lunch and was going to be late for dinner, but he couldn’t care less. The hours he spent training in solitude were the best he had in months. 

He walked into the Great Hall practically glowing with content, sauntering over to his friends who were giving him a quizzical gaze. 

“Mate, you look like you’ve just been laid, where the hell were you?” Seamus asked, causing Ron to choke on a bite of chicken. 

“Oh Ron, you know Harry and Ginny aren’t together anymore,” Hermione giggled, patting Ron on the back softly. 

The ginger seemed to find his composure again and looked at Harry with an apologetic glance, “sorry, keep forgetting you aren’t with my sister. You do look like you’ve had a proper shag though, who were you with?” 

Harry blushed wildly, he hadn’t realized how odd it must have looked for him to just disappear and come back hours later smiling like an idiot. 

“I was not shagging anyone, I was training in the Room of Requirement. This glow is the glow of my magic being used properly for once,” he shrugged, placing a giant heap of mashed potatoes on his plate. 

“You should have invited me, I’ve been itching to work with some proper magic again,” Ron whined. 

“Sorry, mate. Next time, I promise. I was in a sour mood after potions anyways,” Harry explained, not feeling _that_ sorry really. Ron _had_ left him alone in potions with Malfoy. 

As if Hermione read his mind, she apologized for leaving him in class and nudged Ron to tag onto the apology as well. 

“I’ll sit with you next time, Harry,” Neville offered, “must’ve been horrible sitting with that git.” 

Harry gave his friend a thankful smile, he could always count on Neville to be there even when his two best friends were being idiots. 

“Thanks Nev, and he hasn’t been that bad lately,” Harry felt a blush slip over his cheeks when he thought of the nightmare incident from just a night before, “but he was a right prick today,” he added quickly. 

“You guys did look like you were arguing, what was he on about?” Hermione asked, looking slightly nervous. _Serves her right for thinking he’s a nice guy now,_ Harry thought. 

“He was saying that Pansy is after… um he was saying she was after Ginny,” he stuttered, suddenly feeling nervous. 

Ron’s eyes widened and for a second Harry thought they were going to pop out of their sockets. 

“But Gin isn’t - she doesn’t - _what?_ ” He sputtered, looking incredibly confused and slightly ill. 

Hermione rolled her eyes, “oh honestly Ronald, would it really be the end of the world if your sister were to see a girl?” 

“It’s not that, ‘Mione! You know I don’t care about that kind of thing, I mean look at Charlie! But a _Slytherin?_ That’s where I draw the line.” 

“Um, excuse me,” Harry interjected, “are we forgetting that we’re talking about my very recently ex-girlfriend here?” 

Hermione let out a dramatic sigh, “the both of you are gits, what will I ever do? First of all, Pansy isn’t bad at all. I do share a room with her, and she’s been very polite. She’s even apologized for what happened on the night of the second battle,” she paused a second to look up at Harry. 

“She wants to apologize to you but she’s scared you’ll hex her. Second, Harry you know bloody well that you don’t mind if Ginny moves on, there was nothing between the two of you after the war,” she finished, crossing her arms and giving them a look that scarily reminded them of McGonagall. 

“You’re saying you actually enjoy Parkinson’s company? Bloody hell Hermione! You must have received an injury of some sort!” He exclaimed, beaming at his girlfriend in bewilderment.

She responded with a swift kick to his shin before continuing, “Pansy has been nothing but nice to me. We talk about boys, well she talks about girls mind, but still! We also wear the same size in clothing and have similar tastes so we basically share a wardrobe, and she’s actually quite intelligent. So yes, I do enjoy her company!” She hissed, glaring at Ron. 

Ron seemed to get the memo to stop running his mouth and instead murmured an apology, not looking up from his plate of pie. 

“Now, back to the real problem at hand. Harry you and Draco really must get along, you understand that right? Neither of you will benefit from your lessons if you don’t show respect for each other!” She scolded. 

“Yes, I know, but it’s a lot harder than it looks, okay! Malfoy and I have a very strained relationship because of our pasts-” 

“Oh do not give me that, I get along perfectly well with Draco. I don’t know if you remember this or not, but I punched him square in the face and he called me racial slurs for most of our schooling,” Hermione reminded him. 

“You didn’t almost kill him though, did you?” Harry asked, feeling his good mood dampened by the second. 

“I think this conversation needs to end now,” Ron interrupted, “you’re both getting wound up and I’d like to have a nice evening of relaxation. Double potions will be the death of me.” 

Hermione opened her mouth as if she was going to say something, but quickly shut it in favor of keeping the peace. Harry silently thanked Ron, as much as he loved Hermione, her nagging was far too much for him to handle sometimes. 

“I for one, would enjoy a cup of tea and a game of chess,” Ron continued, standing up from the table. 

And to that, Harry couldn’t help but agree. 

* * *

Draco couldn’t help but be disappointed. Potions was his favorite class and Potter had to go and ruin it. He was just looking for some good humored bickering, it wasn’t like they had to be nice to each other to consider themselves friends.

He sighed loudly and looked up from the book he was reading, glancing at Pansy to see if she was paying attention. Annoyingly enough, she wasn’t. He sighed louder, and this time “accidentally” nudged Pansy with his foot. 

She finally looked up from her nails that she was currently painting, an exasperated look on her face. 

“Can I help you?” 

“Pay attention to me, I’m bored,” he whined, pouting at the black haired girl in front of him. 

“You are so _needy,_ Dray, but I suppose I can entertain you,” she gave him a playful grin. 

Out of all the people he grew up with, Pansy had always been his favorite. She was bitchy, cold, and domineering, but she was also loyal, loving, and secretly had a soft side. For a very long time they thought that they’d marry each other someday, that was until they both realized their sexualities in fifth year. 

Draco only needed to be kissed by her once to accept the fact that he did not like girls. He still kept a secret, the only person that knew was Pansy, but at least he knew. He remembered the days before he understood his feelings and as horribly confusing it all was, he was just thankful he had someone who went through the same things. 

If Draco was flaming, Pansy _was_ the fire. Even when they were “dating” she had been vocal about her attraction to girls, specifically a certain ginger from Gryffindor. Pansy was unashamed and proud of her sexuality, something that Draco was terribly jealous of. 

“Let me paint your nails!” 

“Are you mad? I will not let you paint my nails,” Draco said, rolling his eyes. 

“Oh come on, you know you love being pampered. Plus you can just vanish the polish afterwards, I just want something to do,” now she was whining. 

Draco let out a sigh, but gestured for her to go on, earning a wide grin from his best friend. 

Pansy was halfway through painting his left hand when Potter walked in. Draco flushed in embarrassment and practically shoved Pansy off the bed, quickly grabbing his wand to vanish what varnish had been left on his nails. 

“Uh, am I interrupting?” Harry asked cautiously, looking slightly amused. 

Draco cleared his throat, “no, Pansy was just leaving. She has to go make plans to steal your girlfriend.” 

By the looks of her face, Pansy was somewhere in between wanting to hex Draco’s arse off and run away in fear of Harry. Ever since the second battle she had what Draco referred to as _“Potterphobia”_ an irrational fear of Harry Potter. 

“Yea, just leaving, bye Dray,” she said quickly, rushing out of the room. 

Potter was looking more than amused now, he was practically in tears from how hard he was laughing. 

“Oh shove off, Potter. I lost a bet is all,” Draco lied. He was actually quite upset that Pansy wasn’t able to finish. 

“I don’t know what’s funnier - the fact that I just walked in on you getting your nails painted by your girlfriend, or the fact that she almost wet herself when she saw me,” he laughed, grasping his midsection and keeling over. 

Draco resisted a smile, it _was_ pretty funny, but instead he settled on his signature scowl. 

“First of all, she’s not my girlfriend, she’s as gay as it gets. Second, it was a bet, Potter. It wasn’t like I actually enjoyed it,” he pouted. 

“Oh, Malfoy, it’s okay if you enjoyed it! Although green is not your color, I personally think you’d look better in red,” Harry finally let out once he grasped his composure. 

“As if I’d be caught in such an insulting color as red, you Gryffindors obviously have no taste,” he shot back. 

Harry let out a light laugh once again, but then his face seemed to straighten, “she’s not my girlfriend.” 

“What? Pansy? Yes didn’t you just hear me she’s a mega lesbian-” 

“No, you git, Ginny. You know, ‘girl weasel’ as you call her? We broke up over the summer,” he shrugged, reaching into his chest for a set of pajamas. 

Draco’s eyes widened for a moment before he caught himself, “hm, odd. We all thought the two of you’d be engaged by the end of term.” 

“Who is ‘we’ and why are you betting on my relationships?” Harry asked, a twinge of annoyance in his voice. 

“As if you don’t know how much the school talks about you, you are the savior of the world, are you not? Little Weasley was supposed to be your trophy wife.” 

Harry let out a loud laugh, “Ginny? A trophy wife? Even if we were still together she would _never_ become just an accessory for me to bring to events. She’s incredibly independent, anyways I’d never want to be with someone who wasn’t their own person. I know you think I’m lying when I say this, but I am not fond of attention.” 

“Hm, Pansy will be pleased to hear that she isn’t just a pretty face, I suppose.” 

“Are you serious about that? About Pansy being interested in Gin? Because I don’t think Ginny plays for that team…” 

“Oh, I’m very serious. Don’t you know why Pansy has always been disgruntled with you? She was never one to care about blood purity and what not, but she was quite jealous of your relationship with little weasley. And she has her ways, Potter. You’d be surprised what some people would be up to doing, given the right person was suggesting it,” Draco said nonchalantly, examining his nails that were still slightly green from his sloppy vanishing spell. 

Harry couldn’t help but blush, surely that wasn’t true, Ginny would never go for a girl, would she? And to think that all these years he thought Pansy was just another blood puritan, but really she was _jealous_ of Harry. Maybe Hermione had a point about these Slytherins. 

Harry was ripped from his thoughts by the loud sound of drawers shutting, and he looked up to find Draco undressing. He couldn’t help but stare when he saw the scars, the ones he made. 

“Oh Merlin,” he whispered, eyes wide. 

Draco looked at him in confusion, then glanced down at his chest before rolling his eyes, “if you apologize I’ll hex you. I deserved it,” he shrugged. 

“I really didn’t mean to, I didn’t know what the spell would do-” 

“Potter, I am not kidding. I am very good at the entomorphis hex, so unless you want to be turned into a roach, I’d suggest you’d shut up and get ready for bed.” 

Harry nodded slowly, but still wanted to apologize. Had he known that the bloody spell would nearly kill the boy, he would have never used it. _Stupid Snape and his stupid dark curses,_ he thought, as he slipped his own shirt over his head. 

“Anyways, this lovely chat about our ex-girlfriends falling for each other has been lovely, but I for one, am knackered. Please try to keep your dreams tame tonight, Potter.” 

Harry’s breath hitched, he’d nearly forgotten about the nightmare incident the night before. He felt his blood boil with a mix of anger and embarrassment. 

“Not like I can help it… next time just put a silencing charm on me or something,” he grumbled, sliding into his bed. 

“Oh don’t get mad now, we’ve just had a very civil conversation! I was joking, Potter. You don’t think I know what it’s like to be mentally ruined by war?” Draco let out a bitter laugh. 

Harry sighed but didn’t answer. It hadn’t dawned on him that Draco was probably just as messed up as he was until that moment. He hadn’t even given a second thought as to why the boy hadn’t been sleeping, but now it all made sense, he was afraid of his own nightmares. It hadn’t occurred to him how much they probably had in common, maybe this friendship thing could work between them. 

* * *

Any promise of friendship between the two boys was immediately flushed down the loo when they had their first training session the following evening.

“You’re not _trying!_ ” Harry yelled, pushing a hand through his curls in frustration. 

“Bloody hell I’m not trying! Of course I’m trying, you’re just a shite teacher!” Draco yelled back. 

They had only been in the Room of Requirement for twenty minutes, and they were already reduced to a screaming match. 

Harry took a deep breath and closed his eyes, “look, we need to make this work. Maybe we need to work through our problems first or something before we can be partners.” 

Draco scoffed, “oh yes, let’s sit down for some tea and biscuits and have a nice heart to heart! Maybe we can talk about how much we both hated each other for the last seven years!” 

“You said hated, so you don’t currently hate me! Past tense, Malfoy! We can make this work! And actually yes, I’d love some tea and biscuits,” as soon as Harry let the words out, a pop sounded behind them and a small table was produced, adorned with an array of pastries and a pot of tea. 

“Fine, let’s just get this over with. But we need to set some ground rules first,” Draco scowled, sauntering over to the table and serving himself some tea before sitting down in the cushiony chair. 

“Rules? Why do we need rules for a bloody conversation?” Harry asked, joining him at the table. 

Draco rolled his eyes, as if the answer was horribly obvious, “I don’t know about you Potter, but I for one would not like to talk about my lovely father and how his sole mission was to have you killed. Nor do I think you’d like to talk about my darling aunt and how she nearly killed your beloved Godfather.” 

“Okay, you have a point. Family stays out of this.” 

“Good. Now what do you hate about me?” Draco asked. 

Harry looked at him in bewilderment, not sure what to say. 

“We aren’t going to be able to work through our issues if we don’t lay said issues on the table. You can go first, why don’t you like me?” 

“Well let’s start with first impressions, yours sucked. Hagrid was the only person I had ever met who gave a damn about me until I came to Hogwarts, and you immediately insulted him when we were in Madam Malkins. Not a good way to start off a relationship, I suppose.” 

“And then on the train I made the first friend I ever had, and you insulted him too. Once again, was not very impressed. Then we got to Hogwarts and you were sorted into Slytherin, and you know I was about to be sorted in too? But I begged the hat to put me in Gryffindor so I wouldn’t be with you, so it did.” 

“So I was okay because I didn’t think I’d see you much but then you were _everywhere_ being a giant prick all the time. Did you have a stick up your arse the whole time we were in school because honestly you were foul. You made fun of me and my friends endlessly, you were blatantly racist and classist, and overall you kissed Voldemort’s ass. I suppose that’s it,” Harry finished. 

“Oh really? That’s it, is it?” Draco asked, rolling his eyes, but there was a slight smile on his face. 

“Now I get to explain my actions, and apologize for what needs to be apologized for,” he continued, “and I needn’t remind you how much I hate saying sorry, so you better not get used to this.” 

“I was raised in a family where blood purity was all that mattered, so yes it did rub off on me. In my defense, I know now that it’s all a bunch of rubbish and I could care less about bloodlines. Back then I only wanted to please father, and even now sometimes I still want to please him, but I have actual morals now.” 

“Your friends were gits and so were you, but I have apologized to Hermione. I’ve found that I quite like her, especially since she’s not constantly glaring at me anymore. Don’t act like you three were so innocent, you were just as horrid to us as we were you. Yes I did have a stick up my arse, but I’ve taken it out and I apologize for being immature in school. Also towards the end I thought V-Voldemort was a blithering idiot,” he stuttered out the last sentence as if he was still afraid to say the name. 

“Apology accepted. Now it’s your turn,” Harry said, smiling widely. 

“Hold onto your seat, Potter, and no getting angry. I must remind you how well I took your tangent of dislike. My hatred stemmed from our first meeting as well, I was a talkative child and you were quite distant and rude. My defense mechanisms have always been insults, so I insulted Hagrid. Then you wouldn’t shake my hand, again, rude. I was raised with a heavy influence in manners, even if I hate a person I will still offer them my hand.” 

“By the second week of our first year you were already displaying that ridiculous hero complex, what with saving Longbottom’s remembrall. It was quite annoying that you were constantly trying to save everyone even if they didn’t need saving.” 

“You don’t trust anyone except for Granger and Weasley, and I’ll admit I’m not trusting either, but damn, Potter. You actually stalked me for the whole of sixth year, it was horrifying. Mind, I was actually up to something, but still yet. That stems back to the whole hero complex, I suppose.” 

“Lastly, you weren’t understanding. You didn’t and still haven’t tried to understand my background and why I am the way I am. You jumped to conclusions about me, and assumed the worst after our first meeting, I have always been much more than a blatant racist and classist, you just never chose to try to see past that.” 

Harry looked stunned, he hadn’t put much thought into Malfoy’s character at all, but this was eye opening. 

“Now’s the time you apologize and or explain, Potter,” Draco drawled. 

“Oh, yes okay. The muggles who raised me are the most ill-mannered people I’ve ever met, and I was never allowed to talk much, which is why I was so quiet and rude. I do apologize for that, much like your background affected you mine did me.” 

“I think the hero complex comes from that too, actually. I was always dreaming of being swept away from my aunt and uncle, and when Hagrid finally did, I wanted nothing more than to help others. I felt like I needed to repay the world, and I still do.” 

“I’m trying to understand now, I hope you know that. I don’t blame you for what’s happened, and I want to get past everything and get to know the real you, especially since Hermione says you’re brilliant,” he finished, smiling softly across the table. 

Draco nodded, “I accept your apology, and I’m glad that we are going to actually try to get along. Also, Hermione is the brilliant one, I will never forgive myself for being such a prat to her.” 

Harry shook his head, “she forgives you, you should forgive yourself too. And I just wanted to add that even though we’re getting along now and what not, that I will not stop calling you out when you’re being an idiot.” 

“The same goes for me, I quite like bickering with you anyways. It’d be odd if we agreed all the time, and not to mention horribly boring,” Draco’s face lit up in a huge smile, a _real_ smile, one that Harry had never seen before. He was all eye crinkles and dimples, and it seemed almost out of character, but nice. 


	4. Schism

**Schism**

Harry had to admit, his spirits were quite high after calling a truce with Malfoy. The rooming situation was much more peaceful, and he found that he was actually enjoying the other boy’s company. 

“What classes have you got today?” Draco asked as he stared into his mirror, fixing his hair for the thousandth time. 

“Just herbology and DADA, what about you?” 

It was odd still for Harry, how casual they could be, as if they didn’t spend the last seven years of their lives hating each other. It was refreshing and confusing all at once. 

“Just DADA, I think it’s a special eighth year class. All of the houses have it,” Draco shrugged, still not taking his eyes from the mirror. 

“You spend so long on your hair,” Harry groaned, flopping back onto his bed. 

“I told you that you don’t have to wait for me, you can run along with your little Gryffindor friends, I won’t cry myself to sleep over it. Besides, some people actually care about their outward appearance,” he huffed. 

Harry made no effort to move, he wasn’t about to admit it, but he was actually enjoying Draco more than he had enjoyed anyone else in weeks. Instead he continued to lay back on his bed, poking fun at Draco’s tedious hair routine. 

“You know, you actually look quite good when you don’t fuss with it,” he chimed before he could stop the words from flying out of his mouth. 

“Was that a compliment, dear Potter!” Draco exclaimed in mock surprise, holding a hand across his face as if he might faint. 

Harry rolled his eyes, “it was hardly a compliment. I’m just saying that you don’t have to go through all this effort, it looks fine when you’ve got nothing in it. Besides that, the more sleekeazy you use, the more galleons goes in my pocket, and Merlin knows I don’t need any more money.” 

“Ah yes, I almost forgot that you are the sole heir to the sleekeazy fortune. What with you not even owning a hairbrush, it’s a bit odd that you own a company dedicated to making hair tidy.” 

“I do too own a hairbrush, I just don’t use it. It just makes my hair frizzy.” 

“You see, there’s this magical potion that comes in a small tub, they call it sleekeazy-” 

Before Draco could finish, Harry was throwing a pillow across the room to shut him up. 

“Fine, fine, I’ll let you have your horribly messy hair. Let’s go down now, I’m famished.” 

“You’re the one who has held us up! We would have been nearly finished by now if you hadn’t taken so long on your bloody hair!” Harry laughed, sitting up on his bed. 

“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about, you’re the one who insisted on sleeping an extra thirty minutes,” Draco replied, sticking his nose in the air. 

“Unbelievable, come on you wanker, let’s go before it’s too late to eat,” Harry chuckled while shaking his head. 

As they walked down the eight flights of stairs, they realized that their new found friendship was attracting a number of odd looks. Harry had completely forgot that they were famous for their constant fighting, and now they were walking together to breakfast, sharing inside jokes. 

The best reaction of course came from Ron who nearly fell out of his seat when they walked in laughing with each other. As they came to sit down across from him and Hermione, Harry noted that he forced a smile at both them, obviously at the instructions of his girlfriend. 

“Good morning Harry, morning Draco,” Hermione said happily, obviously proud of herself for the intervention she had with Harry. 

“You two are awfully late,” Ron muttered, still not making eye contact with either of them. 

Draco rolled his eyes, “oh, Harry just had to sleep an extra thirty minutes, didn’t you?” 

He meant to fire back with a jab about the hour long hair routine, but instead he choked on his words. 

“You’ve just called me Harry,” he whispered, eyes wide with amazement. 

“We are friends, are we not? If you still want to go by last names that’s fine I just assumed-” 

“No, no! It’s perfectly fine, just taken aback a bit for a second. Yes, that’s fine, _Draco,_ ” 

Harry looked up to see Hermione’s face in the biggest smile he’d ever seen, while Ron looked like he might be ill. 

* * *

“You’re both insane, we’re friends now! Is that so crazy to comprehend?” They were walking to herbology now, leaving Draco behind with his fellow ex-Slytherins.

“Hermione looks like she might throw a party just to celebrate us getting along, and Ron looks like he might be sick every time we laugh with each other. Honestly, just because it’s Malfoy-” 

“You mean _Draco?_ ” Ron asked, spitting out his name as if it tasted rotten. 

“Oh, Ronald, come off it! I think this is great, amazing in fact! I’m so glad the two of you are getting along, you really do have quite a bit in common,” Hermione exclaimed giddily. Harry could already feel his annoyance boil under his skin. 

“Yes, we do happen to have a lot of common, I admit. But honestly I don’t understand why this is such a big deal! Would it be the same if I became friends with some bloke from Ravenclaw that I’ve never spoke to?” 

“Well of course not, you’ve never been enemies with ‘some bloke from Ravenclaw’. Your friendship with Draco is exactly what McGonagall has wanted to come from this mixing of houses! It shows true unity among the students of Hogwarts, it really is more than a friendship!” 

“You sound like McGonagall, I swear you’ve been spending too much time with her,” Ron groaned. 

“You know, getting along with other houses isn’t a bad thing! In fact, after what happened last year, it would do us all good to really bond with each other. That’s why Pansy and I have been planning a party-” 

“A party? What are we, twelve? Will there be a bouncy house?” 

“You are the one being immature, Ron. And no there will not be a bouncy house but there will be firewhiskey so unless you don’t want to be invited, I’d stop complaining if I were you!” Hermione snapped. 

Harry was interested now, “firewhiskey? Hermione Granger is planning an illegal party with alcoholic beverages? Rooming with a Slytherin sure has changed you, ‘Mione!” 

“Oh please, just because I value studying and following the rules doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy unwinding. I think we all deserve a night of complete ‘fuckery’ as Pansy puts it. Now shut up about it, the last thing I want is for one of the professors to hear about it and shut it down before it even starts,” Hermione hissed. 

The party was the last sign for Harry that everything really had changed. A year ago Hermione wouldn’t even consider talking to Pansy Parkinson, and now they were planning a party together? As much as Harry wanted to enjoy the peace that swept over Hogwarts, he couldn’t help but miss some of the old ways. 

House rivalry, for instance. In the eighth year common room it was as if houses never existed, and it was boring. 

“We need to figure out something that will bring back some of the house rivalry,” Harry exclaimed as the walked out of herbology. 

“Harry, we’ve just spent the morning talking about how important house unity is, why on Earth do you think it’s a good idea to bring back rivalry?” Hermione asked, sounding exasperated. 

“You have to admit, it’s boring now! We get along _too_ well, plus a bit of competition is always healthy! We need to stay on our toes and what not, constant vigilance, you know?” 

Ron nodded eagerly, “I agree with Harry, things have been quite dull this year. And as much as I’m enjoying this peace, I wouldn’t mind some more excitement. We don’t even get to play quidditch, we need something to do!” 

Hermione sighed, “fine, Pansy and I will figure something out for the night of the party. But if this brings on too much tension, we’re calling it off. I quite like not hating everyone for once.” 

“Just don’t make us play that bloody muggle game, you know the one where you have to kiss whoever the bottle lands on. I don’t want to watch you kiss anyone else,” Ron pouted. 

Hermione turned a faint shade of pink and giggled lightly, “honestly, Pansy said that we _have_ to play that. I’ll try to talk her out of it though.” 

“Well if any bloke tries to kiss you, he’ll half to get past me first,” Ron said, puffing his chest out proudly. 

“What about me Won Won? You won’t be stopping the big bad Slytherins from kissing me?” Harry teased with a mischievous smile on his face. 

“As if you’d care, Potter. You seem to have an affinity for Slytherins now, don’t you?” Ron shot back, a wicked smile spreading from ear to ear. 

“What does that mean?” 

“I’m just saying, you and Malfoy sure are close now, aren’t you?” 

“What, we’re being civil to each other now and all of the sudden I’ve got a crush on him? Shove it, Weasley,” Harry said, pushing Ron lightly while trying to hide the blush that had somehow crept onto his cheeks. 

“Oi, mate, I wasn’t the one who said anything bout a crush. Just you two’ve been getting on well is all, no need to be embarrassed,” Ron laughed. 

“Both of you, put it to rest already, we’re going to be late for _Professor Lupin’s_ first class!” Hermione exclaimed. 

It was no secret that the trio had been more than excited to have Remus back teaching. Out of all their defense teachers over the last six years, he was the only one who taught them anything useful. Harry didn’t mention, however, that he might as well had taken the class already, since Remus used him as a test subject for his eighth year lessons. He already had a complete understanding for the course and would barely have to lift a finger to pass it. 

“Is he going to be covering patronuses again?” Ron asked eagerly. 

“Well he’s going to go over them a bit today, and then towards the end of term he’s going to go over sending messages with your patronus, but he’s not going to actually teach the charm, no,” Harry explained. It was his fault after all that Remus didn’t have to do a lesson dedicated to patronuses, since most of the returning eighth years were in the DA. 

“I guess most of us do know our way around a patronus, minus the Slytherins maybe,” Ron shrugged. 

The classroom wasn’t nearly as full as they had expected to be. Out of the eighteen returning students, there were only ten taking the course. Every student from Gryffindor, Padma Patil from Ravenclaw, and the Slytherin trio which included Draco, Pansy, and Blaise. 

Harry had nearly forgot that a N.E.W.T. in Advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts was only mandatory for a handful of careers, which meant that not everyone had to take it. He wasn’t sure what Seamus and Dean had planned for their future, but from what he had heard they were taking it purely for fun. Hermione’s career path for the ministry required a N.E.W.T. in almost every subject, and Padma was going into something similar to what Hermione was interested in. Blaise and Pansy were both on track to become healers, and that left himself, Ron, Neville, and Draco as future aurors. 

“Ah yes, my smallest class in number but my largest class in experience. Welcome to Advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts. I’m almost positive I needn’t introduce myself, so I’ll just be jumping right into the lesson, sound good?” Remus asked as he emptied his worn leather briefcase in the front of the classroom. Harry smiled to himself, he looked so natural here. Like he belonged. 

“Now from what I understand this specific group of students are all too familiar with the dark arts and what is needed to defend them, no?” He looked up for a second, checking for the subtle nods across the classroom before continuing, “thanks to Mr.Potter, a great number of you can produce a corporeal patronus, the rest of you have already been arranged to have private lessons.” 

After that, Harry had blocked out Remus’ entire spiel. If the other two Slytherins were getting lessons from him, why did Draco have to work specifically with Harry? He was annoyed, not because he had to work with Malfoy, but because of the obvious secrets that were being kept from him once again. It was exhausting, the way he was treated like a child. He wished that someone would just be upfront for once. 

“Harry, you in there?” Remus asked quietly. Harry’s head jolted up as he realized that all eyes were on him now, and Remus had placed a gently hand on his forearm. 

“I was asking if you could demonstrate your patronus, Mr.Weasley can do it if you-” 

“No, no, sorry. I can do it, just spaced out for a moment,” Harry shook his hand off and grabbed his wand, waving it lazily through the air. He watched as Hermione’s eyes widened as the stag erupted from the tip of his wand and galloped the perimeter of the room. 

“You’ve mastered wordless magic!” She gasped, staring at him in awe. 

“Oh, oh yeah. I’ve forgotten to tell you that, sorry,” Harry muttered, feeling embarrassed. He quickly lowered his wand and watched as the stag slowly faded into thin air. 

Remus offered him a gentle smile, as if to say, _go ahead and go back to daydreaming, I know you know all of this better than I do._ Harry offered him a thankful smile back, resting his chin on his hand once more. 

He wouldn’t have even taken the class, really. But he had two very good reasons. For one, everyone would call “special treatment” on him if he just didn’t take the course and took the N.E.W.T., even if he had worked his ass off learning the curriculum all summer. Secondly, Remus was the professor and it made him warm inside seeing him doing what he loved. If anyone deserved true happiness, he thought, it was Remus and Sirius. 

His thoughts strayed to their relationship, how truly and sickeningly in love they were. He almost laughed at loud at the memory of how he found out they were more than “best mates”. It was the summer before his fifth year and Harry was staying at Grimmauld Place, along with the rest of the Order. He had finally left the solitude of his room and ventured downstairs to the kitchen, only to find his godfather in a very compromising position with a certain werewolf. He nearly screamed, but instead dropped the cup of tea that he had been nursing in his room, grabbing the attention of the two men. The next hour was spent with a thousand apologies and nervous laughter, and in the end Harry had told them he didn’t care, that he just wanted them to be happy. 

And they were, finally. They had the happy little family they’d always dreamed of, even if the circumstances of Teddy’s arrival weren’t the happiest. Remus had been the donor father for his best friend Nymphadora and her wife, and when they both died in the war, he received full custody. Harry was just happy that Teddy’s fate wasn’t the same as his own when he became an orphan of war. 

Now the four of them lived together in the newly renovated Grimmauld Place, which didn’t even resemble the dreary house it had once been. Sirius and Remus’ first mission after the war was to rid it of all evil, including the ever wonderful screeching portrait of Mistress Black, which was promptly burnt in the back garden their first night living there. 

Sometimes, if Harry closed his eyes, everything felt extremely normal. He could make up an imaginary world where Remus and Sirius were his adopted parents all along, and Teddy was his little brother. He dreamed of a life that never involved the Dursley’s and Voldemort never came back, and for a second he felt blissfully normal. Then he would remember that it was all in vain, and that’d he just have to accept the way things were. They weren’t _that_ bad anymore, so he could live with it, he decided. 

Besides, he knew it did no one any good to dwell on the past, but it wasn’t just the past that gave him a headache. The future tended to do the same for his psyche. He only knew one thing, and that was that he wanted to be an auror, at least for a while, anyways. In all honesty, he couldn’t see himself hunting down bad guys his whole life, but right now it was all he wanted to do. But other than that, he had no clue about anything else. 

He went over the quick list of questions in his mind that he had made up on his eighteenth birthday, he called it the “List of the Future”. 

Number 1: What do you want to be when you “grow up”? That one was easy, an auror. 

Number 2: Who are you going to marry, will you ever get married? That one always stumped him. He made a mental note to start looking for a new girlfriend, he could at least try the whole dating thing while he was still among a plethora of girls. 

Number 3: Where are you going to live? He knew he was welcome to stay at Grimmauld Place for as long as he wished, but a part of him was eager to move out as soon as he graduated. He just wasn’t sure where, or with whom. He could always live alone, he supposed, but that seemed far too lonely for his liking. 

Number 4: Do you want kids? This one was easy as well, of course. Harry wanted a thousand kids - no a million kids. This was something him and Ginny always disagreed on. Ginny hardly wanted one child, let alone more than one. Harry had to understand where she was coming from, but the subject of kids was very much non negotiable for both of them. 

And that was it, really. Four simple questions that would decide whether or not he would be a successful adult. He had two questions answered, at least, but the other two were just as big and maybe even more important and he had no clue how to answer either of them. 

He was still lost in his trance when Remus excused the class, and wasn’t brought back to until he felt a hard pinch on his upper arm. 

“You in there, Potter?” A familiar drawl laughed. He looked up to find steely eyes looking down on him with a smug smile etched into his face. 

“Hardly, also mind your hands next time, Malfoy,” Harry shot back, but he was still smiling. He idly ran a hand over the spot that the other boy had pinched, wincing a bit at the dull pain. 

“Oh come off it, I barely touched you!” 

“You pinch a lot harder than you think, I’m definitely going to bruise.” 

“You defeat the Dark Lord but you can’t take a bloody pinch, some savior you are!” 

“Oh please, you would be forcing me to carry you to the hospital wing if I did it to you!” 

“Um, Harry, Draco, I don’t know about the two of you, but Ron and I are famished, are you going to be joining us for lunch?” Hermione asked, breaking their fit of laughter with an amused smile on her face. Harry had nearly forgotten they were still sat in Remus’ classroom. 

“Oh, oops. Sorry, yeah let’s go,” Harry sputtered through residual giggles. 

Harry couldn’t decide who looked more amazed at his interaction, Remus or Ron. Both of them stood in the doorway, Ron’s mouth agape and Remus wearing his classic wide eyed gazed. He couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the two of them as he passed through the door, still chatting with Draco. 

* * *

“Sirius!” Remus called as he stepped through the floo into Grimmauld Place. Usually, he didn’t condone leaving the school grounds just to meet with one’s partner, but this was an _emergency_ by all costs.

“Rem? What are you doing home? Also Teddy’s just gone down for a nap so keep your voice down,” Sirius answered in a hushed whisper. 

“Oop, sorry. We have a crisis, Pads.” 

Sirius raised an inquisitive eyebrow, “please tell me he’s not in mortal danger again, we’ve just got through all this I don’t think I can handle another bloody year of ridiculous death attempts against my godson.” 

“No, nothing like that. Well, I hope not anyways. Sirius, I think he’s _in love._ ” Sirius nearly dropped the cup of tea that he was offering to his husband in surprise, “in love? But he broke up with Ginny ages ago…” 

“Not with Ginny, with Draco Malfoy.” 

“As in my dear cousin, Draco Malfoy? As in ‘Draco Bloody Malfoy the biggest prat on the face of the Earth’? As in Harry’s arch nemesis? Love, I think you’re going mad, are you running a fever?” Sirius asked, raising a hand to Remus’ forehead. 

Remus rolled his eyes, “no, I haven’t got a fever and I am not going mad. Sirius, you haven’t seen them around each other. They act like… they act like us! Before we both came out and realized we were in love! They’re all stolen glances and staring into each other’s eyes and lingering touches, they’re in _love!_ ” 

“Such a romantic, Moony. From what I understand, however, they’ve barely started tolerating each other yesterday. I wouldn’t know, actually, since he hasn’t even written me back since the start of term! Please remind him that I’m not getting any younger and that he needs to open the package I sent him.” 

“Something's shifted between them already, I can feel it. I give it a month before they’re snogging each other senseless by the lake. Also, how do you know he hasn’t opened the package?” 

“I’d also like to point out that our dear Harry has never shown interest in the same sex, so what makes you think that he’s going to embrace his inner homosexual just for Malfoy? And if he had opened the package, I would have heard from him already. I sent him a few of those messaging parchments, like the one I gave you.” 

“Oh, you know that sexuality is on a spectrum! Let’s not forget that foreign exchange student from fourth year that you seemed to be very close with-” 

“Yes, let’s please forget that, actually. I had to touch her boob, it was not fun, to say the least. Now are you going to be staying for lunch? I’m sure Teddy would love to see you after his nap.” 

Remus smiled, more than ready to spend a peaceful afternoon with his son and husband. 

* * *

Bliss. That was the only word to describe the feeling. Complete, utter, bliss.

He was currently lounging in the field of wildflowers behind Hagrid’s hut, a newfound territory that him and his two friends hadn’t even noticed until after the war. The air was crisp and he liked the way the breeze made the flowers dance. He was feeling almost poetic, and he didn’t even care. He was with his two best friends surrounded by companionable silence and it was _bliss_. Not to his surprise, it didn’t last long. 

“Oh! Is that Harry? Harry!” A shrill voice yelled. Harry heard himself groan as he opened one eye to see where it was coming from. 

Delilah Hill was running over to him now, leaving her Hufflepuff friends in her wake. She was a tiny girl with round features and tight blonde curls that seemed to bounce every time she even slightly moved. Her chubby cheeks were perpetually blushing and her eyes were a startling blue. 

She was pretty, and kind, and Harry was very much uninterested in her romantic advances. 

“Oh, hi Delilah,” he said, offering her a gentle smile. 

She plopped down beside him, clearly forgetting about her small army of girls she had trailing behind her. They all stood a few feet away now, staring awkwardly and giggling to each other. 

“Hi, Harry! What brings you out to Professor Sprout’s wildflower field? Your Hufflepuff roots yearning to grown, hmmm?” She asked, batting her lashes. Hermione had to elbow Ron in the stomach just to keep him from laughing. 

“I ‘spose so. It’s rather peaceful out here, and quiet,” he tried to emphasize the word quiet without sounding rude, but apparently she didn’t quite catch his hint. 

“Oh yes, I remember when we started planting these the year before last! We all fought over what colors to choose and where they should go, finally we decided to just spin around and fling seeds everywhere. I think it came out lovely! Don’t you?” 

“Yes, don’t you, Harry?” Ron chimed, smiling from ear to ear. 

“It is quite nice, yes,” Harry murmured through clenched teeth. 

Delilah giggled loudly, something that she was famous for. She tilted her head back and placed a soft hand on Harry’s upper arm, the same one that Draco had pinched earlier that day. For some reason it made him mad that she was touching the same spot that Draco had, as if Draco owned that piece of skin now. 

“Anyways, I’ll be honest, I didn’t come over here to talk about flowers,” she purred, leaning in closer to Harry, causing him to hold his breath, “I wanted to know if you’d accompany me to Hogsmeade the first weekend in October.” 

“I - uh - well,” Harry stuttered, his face turning bright red. 

“He’d love to, Delilah!” Hermione beamed before he could give his answer. Harry felt himself glaring at his friend, but luckily the blonde wasn’t paying attention enough to notice. 

“Oh goody! I’ll make reservations for Madam Puddifoot's, I’ll be seeing you soon, Harry!” She exclaimed, bouncing up from the ground and skipping over to her friends. Harry could still hear their giddy screeches as they bounded towards the castle. 

“Why, on Earth, did you agree to a date with her for me?” Harry groaned, flipping back into the bed of flowers. 

“You need to start dating again, Harry! And Delilah is a sweetheart, she’s so positive, she’ll be good for you!” 

“Hermione, she’s making me go to Madam Puddifoot’s, do you realize what happened the last time I went there?” 

“Oh hush, it’s not that bad of a place. Anyways, this is a different girl, not one who is still emotionally unstable after losing her boyfriend. You’ll have a great time, just give her a chance!” 

Harry looked over at Ron who was still holding back his laughter, his face red with his struggle. He shook his head, reaching over to pat Harry on his shoulder. 

* * *

Despite the complete shitstorm that was his afternoon, Harry’s spirits were once again lifted when he made his way to the Room of Requirement for his first Occlumency lessons. Had he been working with anyone else, he realized, he would have dreaded it. But Draco seemed to have a better understanding of Harry, more so than even Ron and Hermione.

“You’re late,” Draco drawled as he walked into the room, but a pleasant smile still graced his face. 

“Sorry, I was hiding from Delilah.” 

Draco raised a thin eyebrow, “Hufflepuff Delilah? Delilah that desperately wants in your pants?” 

Harry groaned, “is it that obvious? She asked me to Hogsmeade.” 

“You said no, I’m assuming?” 

“I didn’t get the chance to answer her, Hermione did that for me. She thinks I need to start dating again, so I get to take Delilah to Madam Puddifoot’s.” 

Draco let out a bark of a laugh, “oh that’s horrible. Good luck, that is truly what nightmares are made of.” 

Harry rolled his eyes, “let’s get on with this lesson, yeah?” 

“Okay, okay, I’ll tease you about your new girlfriend later. Now sit down, training in occlumency is very intense, and I’d rather not have to levitate you to the infirmary.” 

Harry was surprised to see a very comfortable looking couch had appeared behind him, despite it’s Slytherin green coloring, Harry wanted nothing more than to bury himself in it. 

“I really don’t wish to intrude that much, but you must realize that I’ll have to when you become a bit more skilled. In order for your walls to become impenetrable, I need to try to gain access to your deepest thoughts, and if you aren’t well practiced enough, I might get in. Do you understand?” Any trace of laughter was gone now, and was instead replaced with a steel like seriousness in his voice. Harry nodded slightly, not sure if he fully understood what was about to commence. 

Draco took a deep breath and drew his wand, muttering the words _legilimens_ and pointing it directly between Harry’s eyes. 

_Harry and Ginny holding hands. Sirius wearing scraggly clothes and looking horribly ill. Remus crying over Tonk’s body at the final battle. Harry breaking up with Ginny and her face looking relieved._ And then he pushed, and Draco was out of his brain. 

“Not bad,” he whispered, rubbing his temples gently. 

“Thank you, you’re much better at this than Snape. He was so intrusive and cruel - I didn’t hurt you did I?” 

“No, you’re just, how do I put this, _powerful._ Far more powerful than you realize. Your magic is like waves crashing down, whereas with most people they’re lucky to have a steady stream.” 

“Oh. I hadn’t realized, can we try again or do you need a break?” 

“No, let’s try again. This time, try to block me out before I can see anything. I’m really not reaching far in, it shouldn’t be too hard.” 

Harry nodded and waited for the spell to come over him again, trying his hardest to empty his mind just as had been instructed his fifth year. 

_Pale legs covered in freckles. Treacle tart, Molly’s treacle tart. Sirius holding Teddy for the first time._ “That was better, but still needs improvement. I shouldn’t be able to see any of that, let’s try again.” 

The night continued just like that, with many attempts of Harry completely blocking Draco out of his mind, and finally as the clock neared midnight, he was able to keep him out. 

“Brilliant! That’s great, next lesson I’ll go deeper and we can see if you hold up well,” Draco beamed. His face showed true excitement even though his brow was sweating and his eyes looked exhausted. 

Harry smiled feebly, feeling rather tired himself, “you’re an excellent teacher, I didn’t get half this far with Snape.” 

Draco nodded, “I worked with him once, he was very nosy. But mother insisted what with the war and everything…” 

The usual easy atmosphere that surrounded them tensed quickly at the mention of the war. It was still off limits for them to talk about, they were both afraid of ruining the friendship that had only just began. 

“You know, we’re going to have to talk about it eventually,” Harry whispered, looking over at Draco. 

He sighed in return, “I suppose. What is there to talk about, really? We were on opposing sides, your side won, and now I wish I had joined you long ago.” 

Harry tried to bite his tongue, but the words fell out anyways, “you did have the choice, you know. That night… he offered you safety. You could have gone to him at anytime.” 

Draco’s head turned sharply and his eyes narrowed, “you were there? What the hell?” 

“I was under the invisibility cloak, paralyzed by Dumbledore. So yes, I was there.” 

Draco scoffed, “you obviously still don’t understand.” 

“No, I think I do. You had a choice and you chose the one that you thought you would benefit most from.” He didn’t mean to sound so harsh, but the anger was already boiling inside him and he couldn’t hold it back. 

“Things aren’t as black and white as they seem, Potter,” he spat, “now I’m going back to the dorm. I would greatly appreciate it if you left me the fuck alone. I was stupid for thinking this would ever work.” 

“I guess we both were.” 


	5. Ire

**Ire**

Harry was currently stabbing at his breakfast, a permanent scowl on his face. It had been there since his fight with Draco, and now, after a brutally silent weekend, they still weren’t on good terms. 

“You need to have it out with him,” Hermione whispered, staring uneasily at Harry. 

“I need him to stay out of my way, that’s all I need,” he grumbled in answer. 

“You’re going to continue moping around in this horrid mood until the two of you have a proper row to sort this out. You two were getting on so well, what happened?” 

“That,” Harry hissed, pointing his fork at the girl’s face, “does not concern you.” 

He instantly regretted the mean gesture of course, especially after he saw Hermione’s face drop as she buried herself back into the book she was pretending to read. He didn’t mean to be rude to his friends, he was just tense, and rightfully so. 

Sharing a room with someone you’ve been fighting with was one of the most challenging things Harry had ever experienced. Sure, he had roomed with Ron during the Triwizard Tournament while they were fighting, but there were also three other boys to act as a buffer. In his new dorm, it was just him and Draco. 

“I’m sorry, ‘Mione. I don’t mean to snap, I’m just on edge,” he whispered, touching her arm softly. 

“I know, but you really mustn’t take it out on us. I don’t know what’s going on between the two of you, but you need to sort it out with him.” 

Harry nodded, “I’ll try tonight after dinner, I promise.” 

To his dismay, his explosion didn’t wait until after dinner. 

He had been dreading double potions all day on Monday, and was already feeling queasy as he stepped into Professor Slughorn’s classroom. He idly wondered if there was anyway he could get out of the class, but then he realized it would make him look like a coward, so he stayed. 

He instantly regretted this decision, of course, when he was once again paired with no other than Draco Malfoy. 

“Don’t bother me, I won’t bother you,” Draco drawled, avoiding eye contact with the green eyed boy. 

“Wasn’t planning on it.” 

They’re agreement worked for a while but it wasn’t long before they were making irritated noises at each other, complaining about sharing their workspace. 

“Stay on your side of the bloody table, Potter!” 

“How about _you_ stay on _your_ side, Malfoy!” Harry hissed back, shoving the taller boy on the arm, causing him to drop a vial of black beetle eyes. That’s when all hell broke loose. 

Within a blink of an eye Harry was tackled to the floor, and they were wrestling. Punches were being thrown and students were screaming, unable to tell whose body parts belonged to whom. 

“BOYS! I will not be tolerating this sort of behavior in my classroom! Both of you to McGonagall’s office NOW!” Slughorn bellowed, sounding more frightening than anyone had ever heard. He was never the type to raise his voice or lose his temper, but now he was shaking with anger. 

Harry and Draco were finally separated by Hermione and Pansy, levitated to opposite sides of the classroom so they couldn’t reach each other. Still, the verbal fighting continued. 

“Rot in hell, Potter!” 

“I guess I’ll see you there, eh Malfoy?” 

“OH FUCK YOU-” 

“I said that is enough!” Slughorn yelled, “Miss Parkinson, Miss Granger, since these two _children_ can’t seem to listen, will you escort them to the headmistress’ office? I would not be against the two of you stupefying them if they get out of hand either-” 

“Yes, Professor Slughorn,” they finished in a hurry, grabbing their corresponding fugitives by the arm and practically dragging them to McGonagall’s office. 

“Honestly Harry, couldn’t you have waited until after class to attack him,” Hermione hissed. 

“No, obviously I couldn’t, since he’s a giant PRICK who doesn’t mind his own bloody BUSINESS,” Harry exclaimed loud enough so Draco could hear. 

“Maybe if you weren’t so damn ignorant we wouldn’t be here-” 

“Both of you shut the _fuck_ up!” Pansy shrieked, pressing her free hand to her temple. 

Out of respect, or maybe fear, both of them did just that as they walked the rest of the distance to McGonagall’s office. 

“Now work this out, I would rather you two be on good terms for the party this weekend,” Hermione glared at both of them, before grabbing Pansy by the arm and strutting in the opposite direction. 

Harry opened his mouth at the same time as Draco, about to start yelling at him once more, but was swiftly interrupted by a tall figure glaring down at them. 

“My office, now.” McGonagall whispered, her voice even but obviously angered. 

They wandered into the room, Draco nursing a bloody nose and Harry realizing an ungodly pain in his forearm that was sure to be a sprain. 

“Explanations?” The older woman asked, not looking up at them from her papers. 

“He started it,” Harry huffed, pushing a loose strand of hair out of his face. 

“Excuse me? You started all of this, Potter!” 

“You two are not eleven anymore, there will be no more finger pointing. If you can’t take responsibility for your actions, perhaps you don’t belong here-” 

“No! I’m sorry, I was an idiot,” Draco exclaimed quickly, obviously not liking the idea of returning to the manor. 

“Thank you, Draco. Now Harry,” 

“I’m sorry for being disruptive in class, but I am not sorry for fighting with _him,_ ” Harry spat, shooting a glance at the blonde next to him. 

McGonagall let out a great sigh, “what is this even about? From what I understand the two of you were getting along quite well.” 

“We were, but then he had to bring up the war,” Draco mumbled, looking down at his feet. 

“Actually, you were the one to bring it up first, Malfoy-” 

“It does not matter who brought up the subject first, what matters is that you two get past this. What is it exactly that you disagreed on?” 

“He doesn’t understand that I had no choice-” 

“Of course you had a bloody choice!” 

“NO. I. DIDN’T.” 

“Settle, settle,” McGonagall turned to look at Harry, “can you please step into the hallway for a moment. I wish to speak to you both privately, I’ll take Draco first.” 

Harry nodded and rose from his seat, sauntering out to the hallway, more annoyed than he was when he entered. 

The older woman turned to look at Draco once more, “Mr.Malfoy…” 

“Don’t start. I don’t want pity.” 

“I do not pity you, Draco,” she whispered gently, “you made your choice, and although I don’t agree with it, you’ve grown since then. I understand that it was very hard for you to choose.” 

“He would have killed us,” he choked out, tears threatening to leave his eyes. 

McGonagall frowned, “that may be very well true, but you must understand where Harry is coming from. It’s in his blood, he believes in sacrificing everything and anything if it’s for the greater good.” 

“So you’re saying he would actually choose his side if he was in my situation? If he and his parents had lived a very peaceful life, and all of the sudden he was given this choice, he would have chosen for all them to lose it, just like that? I find that hard to believe.” 

“This, Draco, is where Gryffindors and Slytherins differ the most. You would do anything for those you love, anything to protect them. Harry would give up anything for those who don’t have the power to help themselves, including his own life. 

“Do you understand? How similar yet different you are? For him there is only light and dark, but you see every color in between. Don’t give up on him, Draco, share the colors with him.” 

Draco closed his eyes slowly, taking a deep breath before opening them and nodding. 

“I’m going to call in Potter now, you may wait outside.” 

Draco excused himself, careful not to make eye contact with the too green eyes as he walked towards the hallway. 

“Harry,” she greeted him warmly once it was just the two of them. 

“Headmistress,” he answered shortly. 

“I’m going to cut right to the matter at hands, you are an adult now, Harry. Honestly, I am quite disappointed in you. You of all people should be understanding.” 

“What do you mean by that? I should just let it go that he chose to get the mark when he could have easily asked the order for help? I’m sorry headmistress but I don’t see how anyone could excuse him for that.” 

McGonagall raised a thin eyebrow, “I have. In fact, I was the one who pleaded for him at his trials. During war, Harry, people do things that go against their general character, it is unfair to judge Mr.Malfoy on his behavior during the war alone.” 

“Okay, let’s talk about before the war, he was racist and classist!” 

“Haven’t the two of you spoken about that, hmm?” 

“Well, yes, and he explained. I just… how could he follow him? Voldemort he - he killed my parents, and it was his fault that so many other people died. How can someone willingly join his side?” 

“Draco did not willingly choose his side, he chose the side that would guarantee the life of him and his parents. His choice was purely self preservation.” 

“So you admit that it was selfish? I don’t think I understand.” 

“I never said selfish, self preservation is an entirely different matter. There is nothing wrong with wanting to live a full life, Harry. There is nothing wrong with wanting your parents to live a full life either. Just because you wouldn’t make the same decision does not necessarily mean that he made the wrong one.” 

Harry was at a loss for words. He always came second in his mind, even on the day of the second battle. He could have easily fled, left everyone to fend for themselves but he stayed, he was willing to give his life. He did give his life, technically. Granted he came back, but still. 

But there was also a part of Harry that was starting to understand. 

“I’ll try, okay, I will try again,” he finally sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. 

McGonagall give him a warm smile, “Draco said he is willing to try again too. I’ll go fetch him so that the two of you may speak.” 

_Maybe if I close my eyes, I won’t actually have to deal with this right now,_ Harry thought idly, screwing his eyes shut. 

He heard the soft clearing of a throat and finally opened his eyes, once again reunited with the boy whose nose he probably just broke. 

“Go on then, I’ll cast a quick silencing spell around you so you can speak,” McGonagall chimed, waving her wand. 

Draco let out a huff, blowing a fallen strand of hair out of his eyes. 

“I’m sorry. I know that you are very much a Gryffindor and that we have very different opinions and values, but I do want to try and get past those differences so we can work together.” 

Harry was admittedly appalled at how polite the blonde was being about the whole ordeal, he felt his mouth gape slightly as he stared into grey eyes. 

“You’re going to catch flies, Potter,” he drawled, the smallest hint of a smile on his face. 

“Oh, oops. I’m sorry too, I let my own opinions get between us and I was very immature.” 

“Forgiven, now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be heading to Madam Pomfrey’s so she can fix my broken nose before it’s incurable.” 

The blonde stood to leave but Harry found himself grabbing him by the wrist, forcing him to sit back down. 

“I’ll heal it, I mean it was my fault. Can you heal my wrist first? I think you sprained it…” 

Draco looked taken aback for a second before his cool composure returned, “I suppose we should practice our healing,” he mumbled, pulling out his wand and pointing it at the tan wrist, “ _episkey._ ” 

Harry bent his wrist around, checking for any more pain and was relieved to find it completely healed with all bones still intact. 

“Much better than Lockhart, I will never forget the skelegro incident,” he said with a shudder before pointing his own wand at Draco’s nose, flicking it lightly. 

The blonde boy rubbed his newly fixed nose for a moment, grimacing at the pain. 

“It’s never pleasant having to fix these things,” he groaned. 

“Then please, for the love of Merlin, do not do it again,” McGonagall exclaimed, peering at them from over her book. 

“You two are free to go,” she smiled, waving them out of her office. 

“I thought she put a silencing spell around us,” Harry wondered as they walked towards Professor Slughorn’s classroom, ready to apologize. 

Draco snorted, “yeah right, McGonagall secretly loves the drama I reckon.” 

Harry shrugged in answer. He still wasn’t comfortable with the blonde again, definitely not like they were only a few days ago. It hadn’t occurred to him that they probably rushed into friendship far too quickly, they ignored all their differences instead of embracing them, leading to destruction. 

Harry knew now what it was like to be friends with Draco Malfoy, and he had every intention on becoming friends with him again, even if it meant working his arse off to try to understand the complex boy. 

“You go first, he likes you,” Harry pleaded, standing nervously outside of Slughorn’s classroom. 

Draco scoffed, “he loathes me, he’s not like Snape, doesn’t care what house I’m in. The Malfoy name is in the gutter and he could care less about me.” 

Harry rolled his eyes but stepped through the threshold of the classroom nervously. It was just recently emptied, his friends would be at lunch right now, probably discussing his outburst and analyzing every detail. 

“Professor Slughorn?” Harry asked quietly, standing nervously in front of the plump man’s desk. He received a harsh grunt in answer. 

“I - we, wanted to apologize for what happened earlier. It was very immature of us to bring out personal problems into the classroom, it won’t happen again.” 

“I know it won’t Potter, because you two will have to earn your rights back into my class. I would start by writing an essay regarding the creator of the Pewter cauldron. 20 inches due on my desk Monday morning. You may leave now.” 

Harry was truly surprised at how cold the old man could be. He was usually overly peppy and happy to see Harry, seeing as Lily was his favorite student and that Harry himself was very influential in the wizarding community. 

He stood there for a second, baffled at the interaction. He didn’t turn to leave until he felt a soft tug on his cloak urging him to exit the classroom before Slughorn attempted to hex him. 

“I’ve never seen him behave like that,” Harry breathed. 

“He’s always like that with us, the Slytherins that is. He’s still upset about… that night.” 

“I think we should talk more openly about it,” Harry admitted, looking at Draco from the corner of his eye. 

“Okay, fine. He’s still upset that all the Slytherins left during the final battle, he’s rather ashamed. Especially towards Pansy, he won’t even look at her.” 

Harry frowned, “I didn’t realize he could hold such a vendetta, even I’m not particularly upset with Parkinson and she was ready to gift wrap me and express ship me to Voldemort.” 

Draco laughed softly, “he is a Slytherin, don’t forget.” 

A thoughtful look fell on Harry’s face. He had never really thought about the concrete differences between the houses, rather he thought about their rivalries and the people who inhabited them. He hadn’t realized that the character of a person really did differ between houses. 

“The hat wanted me sorted into Slytherin,” he added calmly. 

Draco stopped walking, staring at Harry in disbelief. 

“What?” Harry asked innocently. 

“Why have you never mentioned that? You’re lying, aren’t you? You’re as Gryffindor as it gets!” 

“Not lying at all, the only reason I _am_ a Gryffindor is because I begged not to be in Slytherin. I wasn’t lying about that back in the Room of Requirement, you know.” 

Draco tilted his head slightly, as if trying to find an ounce of Slytherin inside the boy that stood in front of him. 

“Don’t see it, the hat must have been off that day,” he shrugged before continuing towards the Great Hall. 

“I don’t think the bloody sorting hat has off days, but I know what you mean. I’m not even a little bit Slytherin!” 

Draco laughed quietly, signaling the end of their conversation. The silence was peaceful at least, not tense as it had been for days before, but still unwelcomed. Harry much preferred talking to Draco rather than not talking. 

“I’ve got to meet Pansy,” Draco finally let out as they neared the Great Hall. 

“Oh, you aren’t going to eat?” 

“No, I’ll just have extra at dinner, I promised Pansy a date by the lake,” he shrugged. 

“A date?” 

“Not an actual date, friends can go on dates too, Potter. Pansy wants in my pants about as much as you’d want in my pants.” 

Harry felt himself blush for whatever reason but quickly covered it up with a sharp laugh. He said his quick goodbyes and turned quickly into the Great Hall, scoping for his friends. 

“Harry! Good job you didn’t get expelled!” Ron beamed as he took his seat at the table. 

He couldn’t help but smile at his ginger friend, “nah, we just had to kiss and makeup. Everything is fine now.” 

“You kissed Malfoy!?” 

“It’s a muggle expression, Ron,” Hermione groaned. Harry made a mental note to stop using his expressions around Ron. 

“Oh, okay. Anyways, do you have detention for the rest of term then?” 

“Actually, no. But we aren’t allowed in Slughorn’s class until we earn the right to be there again. We both have to write a twenty inch essay on the creator of the Pewter Cauldron.” 

“Oh that’s awful! You’ll have so much catching up to do, you can use my notes of course, but really that’s quite unfair!” Hermione exclaimed. 

“We do deserve it, if I’m being honest. I feel like a complete git,” Harry groaned, placing his face in his hands. 

“It was quite entertaining at least, and you almost punched him as hard as ‘Mione did back in year three! It was brilliant!” 

“Oh, Ron, don’t encourage him,” Hermione simpered, but a blush crept on her face all the same. 

“Trust me, there will be no more fist fights between the two of us. Maybe a well hidden hex, but I don’t intend on wrestling him to floor anytime soon.” 

“Well not all wrestling is necessarily bad - OUCH, why’d you kick me?” 

“Leave him be, _Ronald,_ ” Hermione hissed through clenched teeth. 

“I’m not going to even bother asking what this is all about. I’ve got to get to the library, I’ll see you two at dinner.” 

“Oh, okay! Let us know if you need help,” Hermione smiled, waving goodbye as Harry exited the Great Hall. 

“Ron, what do you think you’re doing?” 

“He needs a little push, ‘Mione! I mean the sexual tension is ridiculous, even when they were fighting-” 

“Harry will figure this out in his own time. For now, we sit back and support him no matter what, even if this takes the entire year.” 

“Oh joy, another year of listening to Harry complain about Malfoy, how refreshing.” 

Hermione rolled her eyes, “Ron, Harry will complain about Draco until the day he dies. It doesn’t matter how much they snog, they will always get on each other’s nerves.” 

Ron smiled sheepishly, “just like us!” 

Honestly, what was Hermione going to do with them?


	6. Warmth

**Warmth.**

Calling the truce back on with Draco Malfoy should have made things much easier in theory. But of course, nothing was easy in Harry’s life, and he suspected nothing ever would be.

The second patronus lesson had been horribly awkward - as expected. Draco still wasn’t able to produce more than a few puffs of silver smoke and Harry was finding it harder and harder not to lose his cool while teaching. The following evening occlumency session was no better and resulted in a physically exhausted Draco and a mentally exhausted Harry.

Besides the lessons, living together was still awkward. They tried their best to have casual conversation but found that it had become hard for them to chat. There still seemed to be an air of uneasiness shrouding them and it left Harry truly concerned about the whole ordeal.

“You know, it’s probably the Silver Weaclups, they tend to fly about around this time of year, causing tension between friends,” Luna had offered in her ever-so-dreamy voice.

Harry was laying back in the field of wildflowers, his group of friend’s new designated spot to get together. He was accompanied by Luna and Neville, a pleasant change of scenery. He couldn’t help but realize that no matter who he was with, however, he was the third wheel.

Harry smiled softly and closed his eyes, “yeah, you’re probably right, Luna. When do they usually clear off?”

After the war Luna had earned a whole new respect from Harry. He had always had his doubts about her and whether or not she belonged in Ravenclaw, but he realized after the final battle that she was the most intelligent person he knew. Not like Hermione, who was obviously brilliant in her own way, but like _Luna_. She seemed to know everything without even realizing it. So instead of making fun of her, Harry and his friends had instead taken to actually listening to what she had to say, mostly because it was entertaining but also because it seemed to reign true.

Luna looked thoughtful for a moment, staring off towards the setting sun, “well, from experience, around Christmas time is when they finally leave for the Americas. They tend to ease up a bit though, so don’t be too worried.”

Harry nodded, accepting her words and locking them in a small box in the back of his mind. He liked to refer to it as his “Luna Box”, a place in his mind that was only occupied by the curious words of wisdom that usually took Harry months to understand. In the end, however, he always understood.

“I heard that they’re having a party tomorrow evening,” Luna finally spoke, after a solid thirty minutes of companionable silence between the three of them.

Neville nodded, “yeah, Pansy and Hermione planned it. It’ll be in the Room of Requirement, Pansy said I’m allowed to invite you since she’s inviting a seventh year as well.”

Luna’s face lit up in a huge smile, “that’s quite lovely of her. She is quite taken with Ginny, you know?”

Harry sat up quickly, a look of confusion plastered on his face.

“How do you know she’s invited Ginny?”

“Don’t be silly, Harry. It’s quite obvious, isn’t it? The way she looks at her in potions and what not, it really is sweet. Don’t pretend to be hurt either, there is no love lost between you and Ginny,” Luna answered, not even looking up at Harry as she weaved a delicate crown of flowers in her lap.

Harry sighed but nodded, “I still care about Ginny, just because we weren’t in love or whatever doesn’t mean I don’t worry about her.”

“You’ve no reason to worry, really. You’re quite like Neville, so stubborn to not let go of the past. Pansy is perfectly nice.”

Neville smiled weakly and shrugged at Harry, showing no interest in arguing with his girlfriend. Harry huffed in answer, but digressed, laying back into the cushiony flowers.

“I’ve made you a flower halo, Neville. It will protect you from the Jovugs at the party tomorrow, they’re quite pesky once you’ve had a bit of alcohol,” Luna whispered, gently placing the intricate crown on Neville’s mess of fluffy, brown hair. He smiled sheepishly, leaning in and placing a kiss on her temple softly.

Harry’s cheeks burned with a light blush, suddenly missing the feeling of having something like Neville and Luna. Hell, he would even be okay with having a bickering relationship like Ron and Hermione. He only shared a brief period of romance with Ginny, and it was enough to show him how good it felt when it was done right. He ached for the fluttering feeling in the pit of his stomach and a hand to hold.

He suddenly realized that his imminent date with Delilah didn’t have to be a bad thing. He could see himself getting used to her antics, just as Neville had grown to love Luna’s. She _was_ rather sweet, maybe after a few hours alone he would feel more inclined towards a relationship with her.

“You’re thinking too hard,” Neville chimed, smiling down at Harry. He still had the flower crown adorning his head and was looking rather much like a pixie.

Harry laughed quietly, “aren’t I always?”

“Too true,” Neville answered with a hearty laugh of his own.

“Where are Ron and Hermione, by the way?”

Harry rolled his eyes, “they claim to be ‘studying’ but by the look on their faces they’ve gone to look for an empty classroom. Insatiable, the two of them, really.”

“Neville and I quite prefer the room of requirement,” Luna added idly, weaving yet another flower crown in her lap.

Harry shot an amused look at Neville as the brunette tried to come up with words to explain what Luna had meant.

“Oh, Neville, don’t get so flustered, love. We are both of age and sex is a normal part of adulthood,” Luna chided.

“And with that, I think I’ll be going back to the dorms, thanks for the company!” Harry exclaimed, climbing to his feet.

“Oh! Harry, I’ve made you a flower halo as well, you know, for the Jovugs,” Luna said, handing a crown nearly identical to Neville’s to Harry as he stood up.

“Thanks, Luna. It’s lovely, I’ll see you both at the party tomorrow then?” Harry asked, placing the crown in his unruly locks.

“Of course, we’ll see you then, Harry!” Luna sang, waving softly as she began weaving yet another flower crown, presumably for herself.

Harry nodded and continued on towards the castle, feeling warm and fuzzy all over. It was as if the aura surrounding the couple rubbed off on him every time he spent more than five minutes alone with the two. He made a mental note to spend more time with them, since it seemed to have quite positive effects.

Harry walked into his dorm, still feeling the calming bliss from his recent outing with “Nuna” as his friend’s had called them. They _were_ basically inseparable now.

“What on Earth is on your head?” Draco asked, peering over his book, hiding an amused smirk with a mock scowl.

“Oh, I completely forgot I had this on. Um - it’s a flower halo, keeps the Jovugs away when you’ve been drinking,” Harry explained, suddenly feeling rather embarrassed with himself.

Draco raised an eyebrow, still staring at Harry as he stood in the middle of their room.

“Luna made it for me,” he shrugged.

A feeble smile graced Draco’s lips and he looked at the ceiling fondly, “I quite like her.”

“Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but her and Neville are quite taken with each other-”

“Not like _that_ , as a friend, I suppose,” now Harry was raising an eyebrow in surprise, “oh come off it, just because I’m an ex death eater doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy the company of someone as enchanting as Luna Lovegood.”

“When have you spent time with her?” Harry asked, genuinely interested in Malfoy’s apparent friendship with Luna.

“Well, you know she was locked in our dungeons for quite a while. I snuck her and Ollivander food quite often, and she was rather nice despite the circumstances.

“When I came back to Hogwarts, I was expecting her to not pay any attention to me, just as everyone else has, but she was just as warm as always. We’ve studied together a few times, she really is brilliant, in a unique way I suppose.”

Harry first tried to picture Malfoy sneaking into his dungeons to bring scraps of food to the kindest girl Harry knew and an elderly old man, and it suddenly made sense. Draco was a genuinely good person, deep down that is. He just tried to cover it with a false mean streak.

“I know what you mean about her being brilliant. I go to her for advice more than I do anyone else,” Harry conceded.

Draco nodded idly, turning back to his book and showing no interest in wanting to continue their conversation. Frustrated to no end, for whatever reason, Harry continued to talk.

“Are you going to the party tomorrow?”

“Pansy is begging me to go, but I don’t think my presence is much welcomed by anyone else,” he drawled, still not looking up from his book.

Harry frowned, “well that’s a shit reason to stay in. Who cares what people think about you?”

Draco sighed, “look, Potter, I don’t expect you to understand this, considering everyone wants nothing more than to kiss your feet, but I am unliked, generally speaking. Sure, there are a select few of our fellow classmates who tolerate me and a handful that actually like me, but the rest of them would take any chance they got to hex my balls off.”

“Well, I wouldn’t let that happen, and I’ll be there. You deserve to have fun too, you know.”

“I would rather not have Harry Potter save my arse again, for what, the third time? I’m a big boy, Potter, I can handle my own,” Draco said, rolling his eyes.

“If that’s true, come to the party,” Harry insisted.

“Why does it matter so much anyways?”

“Because, you need to loosen up and have a good time! You can’t produce a patronus if you’re constantly miserable.”

“Fine,” Draco relented, “I’ll go to the bloody party, but don’t be surprised when someone ‘accidentally’ hexes my eyebrows off or something. And you will be taking full blame for any said accidents.”

Harry broke into a huge smile, “there won’t be any accidents on my watch, promise! Anyways I’m off to pop in the shower.”

Draco nodded, still not looking up from whatever bloody book he was reading, and for once Harry was glad he wasn’t paying attention to him. He had time to work on his plan.

Instead of heading to the showers, as he had told his unsuspecting roommate, he darted to the common room where almost everyone was still out chatting.

Harry stood in the middle of the room, clearing his throat loudly to gain the attention of his fellow classmates.

“Erm, hi. I wouldn’t usually do this, but seeing as we’re having a party tomorrow and all I think it’s time I make a bit of an announcement,” he projected so that everyone could hear him. He noticed a surprised look on Hermione’s face as Ron leaned over to whisper something in her ear.

“Well, I just wanted to point out that the war is behind us now. Not to say that we should, you know, forget about it and everyone we lost, but that doesn’t mean we should act like children!” He continued, his voice faltering a bit.

“So, what I’m getting onto, I guess, is that we shouldn’t hold grudges! I’m not holding any, so none of you should either. That’s it, really. I thought I would have a lot more to say, but I guess not…” he trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck.

He saw Pansy Parkinson tilt her head slightly, and he almost drew his wand when he saw her bounding towards him. He had expected her to attack him, and was surprised to look down and see her tiny body hugging him tightly. He smiled softly, and reciprocated, the feeling of her strangely unfamiliar but not unpleasant.

When she finally broke away he realized she was crying, but smiling, “thank you,” she whispered, hugging him one last time before returning to her seat.

He looked up to find a sea of astounded faces, but he just shrugged at their reactions, not having anything further to say.

“Well, you heard him! Stop being pricks and move on with your lives,” Ron bellowed, giving Harry a thumbs up. With a smile, he silently thanked his friend and headed up back towards his room, ready to leave the watchful eyes of his fellow classmates.

“Blimey, I really did think he was about to come out just then,” Ron whispered into Hermione’s ear. She punched him in the arm and gave him a warning glare, but still smiled and nodded in agreement.

* * *

An owl fluttered overhead carrying a large package as Harry sat at breakfast the next morning. He quirked his eyebrows and realized that the parcel was for him, and he hadn’t even opened the last one Sirius had sent. He wasn’t quite used to the notion of getting gifts regularly yet, and suddenly felt a twinge of guilt due to his lack of correspondence with his godfather.

He opened the note that sat on top of the package carefully, and read through it quickly. Once again he was instructed not to open it at the table and was also given a few choice words about his “inability to owl his elderly godfather”.

“I’m going to nip back to the dorm, I really have got to owl back Sirius and open these packages, I’ll see you at lunch?”

Ron and Hermione nodded, both of them too involved in the latest issue of The Prophet to question Harry. He grabbed an apple before running up to his dorm, suddenly anxious to open his post.

Thankfully, Draco was still at breakfast when he returned, leaving Harry to absolute solitude. He didn’t really mind if his roommate saw whatever Sirius sent anyways, but just incase Harry found himself get sentimental it was good news.

He picked up his first package, the one that had been sent to him nearly a week before and opened it in haste. He was pleased to see a small stack of what seemed to be plain parchment, but was somewhat confused. He searched for a note but found nothing, but knowing Sirius it wouldn’t just be regular parchment.

He dug a quill out of his school bag and scribbled his name on the parchment, watching it disappear slowly. He shrugged, not really understanding the use for a piece of paper that couldn’t even hold ink, but silently thanked Sirius anyways.

He went back to his more recent package and opened it just as quickly as the last. To his surprise, he found five shrunken bottles of firewhiskey wrapped in a scarf, obviously hidden incase Filch decided to look through his male. He smiled, wondering how Sirius knew they would be having a party.

His thoughts were interrupted by a sharp pinging sound coming from his desk. He furrowed his brows and wandered over to the cause of the noise, the abandoned parchment.

_“Ah, so now you open my packages, hm? Brat.”_

Harry laughed to himself, realizing what the parchment was actually for. It reminded him vaguely of muggle telephones, the way it worked. Instantly sending messages back and forth rather than having to wait for the owls to deliver them.

 _Sorry,_ he wrote, _I’ve been so busy I forgot all about it. How’d you know to send me whiskey?_

_“I didn’t, it was just my godfatherly instinct, I suppose. Don’t tell Remus.”_

Harry smiled, _wouldn’t dream of it, I don’t want it confiscated before our huge illicit party we’re throwing in the room of requirement tonight._

_“Ah, to be young again. I’ve got to go, Teddy is quite fussy. Let me know how your party goes, love you, kid.”_

Harry watched the words fade away and tucked the parchment into the pocket of his school bag for safekeeping.

* * *

Draco found himself in his dorm, getting ready for an illicit party that was sure to cause nothing but trouble, but for whatever reason he had no plans of skipping it. He silently cursed Potter for dragging him into this and making him want to go. He would have been perfectly fine if Harry had just kept his nose in his own business.

The blonde sighed to himself, eying his hair in the mirror that hung above his desk. He was about to reach for his tub of sleekeazy when he remembered what Harry had said the other day, _you actually look quite good when you don’t fuss with it._

What was that supposed to even mean? Did he not look good when he did fuss with it? Anyways, who was Potter to judge him on his hair? Draco found himself pouting inwardly, quite annoyed by the words that had been said nearly a week before.

Why did he care so much what Potter thought anyways? Sure, he was sort of handsome, and maybe Draco enjoyed the sight of him in that ridiculous flower crown more than he let on, but that didn’t mean anything!

And maybe he was sort of charming with those stupid green eyes that crinkled at the edges when he laughed, and oh _merlin_ his laugh was so contagious and bright and made everything seem okay.

And yes he was bloody heroic, okay? As if it wasn’t enough that he saved the world from Voldemort, he had to be so humble about it! And then apparently last night he had gone and told everyone to stop holding grudges because of the war. It was all too much, Draco found. His head was spinning.

Maybe it was possible that Potter’s opinion matter a teensy bit more than Draco would have liked it to.

Draco groaned loudly at his realization and flopped backwards onto his bed. _Way to go, Malfoy. Get a bloody crush on the most hetero man to walk this Earth, oh and don’t forget to make sure that the two of you were mortal enemies up until a week ago!_ He was screwed, and he knew it. And of course Potter just had to be the one that he was training with, mandatory training to make matters worse! It all seemed like a sick joke played on him by the universe, and for once Draco actually believed in karma.

He finally sat up, eying the tub of sleekeazy once more, and without another thought, banished it from his dresser.

* * *

“You came!” Harry beamed as Draco stepped into the room of requirement.

Draco rolled his eyes, “I said I would, don’t get too excited, Potty.”

Harry just continued to smile and pulled Draco in for a hug, “I’m just so happy you came! You’re going to have so much fun!”

“Oh my God, are you pissed already?” Draco asked, trying to hide the blush that crept onto his face.

“Nope, just a bit buzzed really, let’s get you a shot, yeah?”

Draco sighed and followed the overly excited boy to a table full of bottles of different sorts.

“Sirius sent me five bottles of this today, said it’s the best he’s had, here!” He shoved a shot glass into Draco’s hand, taking one in his own and staring at the blonde expectantly.

He gladly took the drink, wanting to forget his current predicament for a few hours.

“Brilliant, now come on the games are starting!”

Draco scoffed, feeling the warmth of alcohol spread through his body already, “games? What are we twelve?”

“Funny, that’s what Ron said. Nope, these games definitely aren’t suitable for twelve year olds, I reckon. Pansy and Hermione came up with them, they’re quite devious together really!”

Harry grabbed his hand and practically dragged the taller boy to a circle of their classmates sitting on the floor. Draco’s eyes flickered across the faces, recognizing all the Gryffindors, Pansy, Blaise, the girl weasel, Luna, and Delilah. He scowled a bit to himself when he saw the ditsy blonde feeling the overwhelming sense of jealousy rush over him.

“Come sit, Pansy says she wants to sit next to you, I’m over by Lilah,” Harry exclaimed, letting go of Draco’s hand and wandering over to the girl sitting across the circle.

 _Lilah,_ they already had nicknames!

Before Draco could make a speedy exit to go sulk in his room, Pansy was giving orders.

“We’re playing never have I ever, it’s simple really, Hermione told me all about it! Basically we’ll go around the circle saying things we’ve never done, and if you’ve done something you’ve got to take a shot. Does everyone get it?” Pansy asked, looking around the circle for understanding.

“Brilliant, I’ll start! Never have I ever… been swimming in the Black Lake!”

“Does it count if I wasn’t actually swimming?” Ron asked, smiling sheepishly at Pansy.

“Yes, take a shot dear Weasley!” She shrieked.

Ron, Hermione, Harry, and Luna all took a shot.

“Luna why on Earth did you go swimming in the Black Lake?” Hermione asked, giggling.

“I was looking for Tealbeags, daddy wanted me to write a column on them. Sadly I think they’ve gone extinct,” Luna frowned. Draco noted that she and Neville were both wearing flower crowns much like the one Harry was currently wearing.

Hermione nodded, not wishing to get into a conversation about whatever Tealbeags were, “okay, my turn! Never have I ever streaked,” Hermione laughed, shooting a mischevious look at Pansy.

“Oh bugger! You did that on purpose!” Pansy squealed, playfully shoving Hermione.

“Drink up, Parkinson. You too Zabini, and I know for fact you have as well, Draco,” she smiled.

Draco flushed bright red as he leaned towards the middle of the circle and took a shot glass. Slytherin parties were notorious in ending in some form of nudity, so it was true that he had streaked once or maybe twice, but he didn’t expect Pansy to go blabbing about it to her new Gryffindor friends.

The game continued, Weasley saying something about never giving a blowjob and in answer a number of the girls, including his sister, took a shot. Draco also noticed Seamus and Dean both taking a shot as everyone was preoccupied with Ron’s shouting at Ginny.

Draco was feeling rather warm after taking a few more shots, thanks to Dean, Seamus, and Blaise who all had never done things that he had. He was sitting back quietly drumming his fingers against the floor, feeling rather relaxed.

“Draco, it’s your turn, love!” Pansy slurred, having taken a shot almost every time, whether she had done the thing in question or not.

“Oh, okay. Never have I ever kissed a boy,” Draco said nonchalantly. He heard a snort come from Pansy but chose to ignore it, watching almost the entire circle take a shot, save for Ron, Harry, and Neville.

“You Gryffindor boys are so boring! Out of the five of you, only two have experimented? A shame really!” Blaise laughed.

“Draco has never kissed a bloke either!” Neville pointed out, his face bright red from the alcohol.

“Doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to…” Pansy mumbled, earning a swift elbow to her side from Draco.

To his dismay, it was too late, Pansy had another one of her brilliant ideas.

She gave a quick look to Draco before smiling slyly to herself, “never have I ever wanted to kiss a boy.”

Draco glared at her, “you kissed me Pans!”

“Yeah and we both hated it didn’t we Dray?” She whispered back, smiling wickedly, “now drink up love.”

Draco sighed and glanced around the circle, everyone seemed to be preoccupied by their own shots so he took the chance to reach in and grab a glass quickly, swallowing it in one gulp. He looked up and found himself making eye contact with Delilah Hill who seemed thoroughly surprised. He shook his head at her, sending silent threats her way. She nodded in answer but Draco was not even close to be convinced that she’d keep her mouth shut.

“This has been great, but I’m going to go now,” Draco whispered to Pansy, rising from his seat on the floor, stumbling a bit as he did.

“Oh don’t be that way, we’re just having a good time!” She whined, pulling on his sleeve.

“She saw me take a shot, she’s going to tell everyone,” he hissed.

“She’s already pissed, she won’t even remember! Just stay a bit longer, we’re playing a different game no anyways,” she pleaded.

Draco took a hesitant glance around the circle and noticed that Harry was staring at him, mouthing the words, _don’t go_.

“Fine, but I’m done with this game,” Draco grumbled, plopping back to the floor and crossing his arms in defiance.

“That’s okay, we’re about to start an arm wrestling tournament!” Pansy said excitedly, conjuring up a rickety table in the middle of the circle to replace the empty shot glasses.

“That sounds barbaric,” Blaised admitted, his eyes wide with curiosity and disgust.

“It’s not, ‘Mione showed me! It’s very interesting really what muggles get up to. I suppose they get bored without magic and what not,” Pansy shrugged before explaining the concept of arm wrestling to the flock of pure blood wizards that had never heard of such thing.

“We want to do houses against houses, just to bring back a bit of rivalry and what not. Who wants to go first?” Hermione asked, eyes wandering around the much bigger group of people than that that had played never have I ever.

Seamus immediately stepped forward, “I challenge Manning,” he said, pointing at a shy Hufflepuff boy who Draco knew to be Zacharias Smith’s younger and less annoying brother.

“Oh, um. Okay,” he answered, taking a swig from the beer he was nursing before stepping up to the table.

Draco watched as a very intense match of arm wrestling unraveled before his eyes. For being as tiny as he was, Seamus Finnigan could definitely hold his own. In the end, Manning was taken down after a thirty minute struggle, resulting in an uproar from the Gryffindors.

“Okay who’s next?” Pansy yelled.

The tournament went on for a long time, and Draco was more than happy to sit back and watch as boys and girls alike challenged each other. He was on his fourth bottle of beer when he heard his named called.

“Malfoy, I challenge you!” Harry beamed, smiling from ear to ear. He didn’t seem quite as drunk as he had earlier, but was still quite obviously buzzed.

“Sod off, Potty,” Draco drawled, fighting back the urge to smile back.

“Draco! You can’t turn down a challenge, you’re letting down Salazar!” Thomas Nott yelled.

The blonde rolled his eyes but set down his beer, sauntering towards the table as the crowd cheered.

They met in the middle and joined hands, a shot of electricity ran through Draco’s body and he was momentarily paralyzed. He forgot the effect that alcohol tended to have on him, and cursed himself for drinking as much as he did, even though he wasn’t even close to pissed.

Draco was known for being horribly cheeky while he was drunk, craving physical attention from anyone and everyone. He always ended his drunken nights hanging on to Pansy despite her protests. And now he was horribly aroused at the mere gesture of touching hands with Potter.

He shifted uncomfortably and focused on just trying to overpower the black haired boy. He had no idea how long they stood there like that, but by the sounds of the crowd they must have been taking a while. Neither of them were giving in, and Draco had to admit that Harry was scarily strong. _Great, another attractive aspect about the prat,_ he thought idly.

Draco looked up to see Harry in extreme concentration, he was biting his lip and his eyes were furrowed, his brow sweating lightly. Draco nearly fell over because of how hot he looked, and his moment of weakness gave Harry the chance to overpower him finally.

The Gryffindors whooped and hollered again as Harry threw a fist in the air triumphantly. Draco couldn’t help but smile at how much of a dork he was, celebrating over a poorly planned match of arm wrestling. That’s when he knew, he was in deep.

* * *

“You know they’re having an illicit party tonight, right?” Sirius asked sleepily, cuddling closer to his husband.

Remus groaned, “why are you telling me this? I would rather not know.”

Sirius turned his head to smile cheekily, “you are such a liar. You love gossip.”

“You got me there. Anyways who is ‘they’?”

“The eighth years, I suppose. Harry didn’t give me a detailed list of everyone who would be there,” Sirius shrugged.

“So your godson is involved with this, hm?”

“ _Our_ godson,” Sirius corrected.

“No, he’s just yours when he’s being a pain in the arse,” Remus smiled.

“Oh but you’ll take credit when he slays the dark lord?”

“Course. Are they going to be drinking?”

“Well I don’t know that they were before I sent the five bottles of whiskey but they definitely are now…”

“Pads! You can’t send kids alcohol, are you insane?”

“Mmm, no I’m Sirius. And trust me, I’m not the first parent to do this. It’s Slytherin tradition to send your kids booze.”

“How would you know, Gryffindork?”

“Andi told me about it, but she made me promise not to send any to Teddy when he goes to Hogwarts.”

“Oh trust me, I’ll make sure you don’t. You aren’t sending any more to Harry either,” Remus scolded.

“That boy deserves to get pissed,” Sirius grumbled.

“Okay, true, but not on school grounds. Now shut up and cuddle with me,” Remus growled, shoving his face into the crook of his husband’s neck.

Sirius smiled and happily obliged.

* * *

Several hours and bottles of firewhiskey later, the party finally died down. Harry sat lazily in a chair, Delilah Hill sitting right next to him, practically on his lap.

He actually had a pleasant night with Delilah, she was much more calm after a few drinks but still incredibly sweet. He still found that he wasn’t attracted to her, but he definitely felt her growing on him, so he declared the night a success.

“Harry, you should escort Draco to your room, he’s pissed out of his mind,” Hermione said, coming up behind him and Delilah.

Harry nodded and shifted out of his chair, leaving Delilah alone and practically asleep, “mmkay, where’s he at?”

“Over here, Potty! Pansy says you’ve to take me back to the dorm now,” Draco slurred. He was standing on a table, if you could call what he was doing standing. Harry rushed over to him and helped him down before he could fall off.

“God, you did really let loose, hm?” Harry asked with a laugh.

“Your fault, Potty. You made me come,” Draco pouted.

“I’m glad you had fun, let’s go back now, you need sleep.”

“Don’t need sleep, I’m a _dragon,_ ” Draco growled, imitating a dragon.

“Oh really?” Harry asked.

“Yes, don’t you know thas what Draco means? _Dragon._ Sexy, innit?”

Harry bit back a laugh and nodded, not trusting himself to speak without laughing.

They finally got back to the dorm after Harry had to practically drag Draco up the eight flights of stairs.

“Do you want help putting on pajamas?” Harry asked, setting Draco down on his bed.

“Want to get me undressed, hmm?”

Harry flushed, “no, you’re just horribly drunk. But I take back the offer,” he said grumpily.

“Oh, Potter, ‘twas only joking. I know you don’t wanna see me naked, and thas okay. I don’t need pajamas now,” he whispered, cuddling up to his pillow.

“Okay, goodnight then.”

Silence lasted all but two minutes before Draco was chattering on again about being a dragon and how sexy it was of him.

“Merlin Malfoy you never talk this much,” Harry groaned.

“‘Cuz I might say too much if I do,” Draco answered simply.

“Well you better go to sleep now before you say too much now and tear my head off in the morning.”

“Wouldn’t do that, but you’re right. Do you think mermaids have feelings?”

“You are so drunk.”

“Am not.”

“Yes you are.”

“Will you sing to me? A lullaby? Mum always sang to me when I was little.”

“I don’t know any lullabies, no one ever sang to me,” Harry answered bitterly, feeling quite annoyed at the talkative boy in the bed beside him.

“I’d sing to you, Potter, but I’m too drunk right now.”

Harry laughed, “you just said you weren’t drunk.”

“I just asked Harry Potter to sing to me, course I’m drunk!”

“Go to sleep, Malfoy,” Harry sighed, smiling to himself. This time his comment was answered by soft snores.

 


	7. Veracity

**Veracity**

He opened his eyes to a white ceiling, too white, really. It was far too bright in the room. He groaned to himself and suddenly wished he was back in the Slytherin dungeons which were kept cool and dark all the time. He shifted slightly to sit up but stopped in his tracks when he felt his stomach flip and threaten to empty its contents. 

He took a deep breath, praying to keep everything down just until he got to the bathrooms at least. He screwed his eyes shut and sucked in his breath, slowly working himself out of his bed and onto his feet. He didn’t dare reopen his eyes, knowing that if he did the world would spin and he would either end up on the floor, vomiting, or both. 

He shuffled to the bathroom, cursing McGonagall for giving him and Harry the room furthest away. He wasn’t sure what was worse, his pounding head, churning stomach, or the vague memories of what had happened the night before. 

He certainly didn’t remember a majority of it, that’s for sure. He remembered dancing on a table with Pansy and arm wrestling with Harry and a conversation about mermaids, but that was it really. He decided to himself that he’d have to pay a visit to Pansy to retrieve a hangover potion and some of the missing pieces. She never forgot anything, not even when she was pissed drunk. 

The fluorescent lighting of the bathroom was too much and he found himself hovering over a toilet within seconds of entering. After the first round of sick was finished, he laid his cheek on the cool porcelain of the toilet seat, not even caring about cleanliness. 

“Morning sunshine,” a familiar voice laughed from outside the stall. 

“If I had my wand right now I’d hex your balls off,” Draco groaned. 

“Oh, feeling a bit hungover, _Dragon?_ ” Harry cackled, unlocking the door to Draco’s stall and stepping in. 

“Merlin I called myself Dragon, didn’t I? I always call myself Dragon when I’m drunk. And why are you in here, can’t I have my shame in piece?” 

“I have a hangover potion for you, Pansy gave it to me at breakfast and ordered me to give it to you as soon as you woke up.” 

“I love Pansy,” Draco groaned, snatching the vial from Harry and downing it in one swallow, “that stuff always tastes horrible,” he shuddered. 

“Tell me about it, I’ve only ever been hungover once though, alcohol doesn’t affect me much,” Harry shrugged, retrieving the empty vial from the blonde’s hands and discarding it in his pocket. 

“Course you don’t, you’re the chosen one,” Draco whined. He was already feeling better from the effects of the potion, but he didn’t want Harry to leave. 

Harry rolled his eyes, “c’mon, you should probably eat something. I brought you back some toast from breakfast, it’s in the dorm,” he said, offering his hand out. 

Draco took it, trying to hide his trembles of nervousness that would certainly give away his massive crush on the black haired boy. 

“You really did tie one on last night, you asked me to sing to you,” Harry laughed, shooting an amused look at Draco. 

“Oh Merlin please don’t remind me of what I did while I was drunk, I’ll be hearing everything again from Pansy laster anyways, I’m sure.” 

“Pansy didn’t get to hear everything you told me though, you wouldn’t shut up last night!” 

Draco flushed, what did he say last night? He said a silent prayer that he didn’t let anything too personal slip. 

As if he could read his mind, Harry wrapped an arm around his shoulder, “not to worry, you didn’t tell me who you’ve been pining over or anything, you just talked about dragons and mermaids, really.” 

He wasn’t sure if it was the feeling of Harry’s arm weighing down on his shoulders, or maybe it was the strong scent of honey and tea that radiated off of him, or maybe it was just his embarrassment due to his drunken self, but Draco was blushing furiously now. So he did the only thing he could think to do, he pushed Harry off of him. 

“Hey, what was that for? I’m just poking fun, Malfoy. No need to get all defensive,” Harry grumbled, rising back to his feet. 

“I told you I didn’t want to hear about last night, will you ever learn to listen to people’s requests, Potter?” He snarled in answer, storming in the opposite direction. 

Draco wasn’t exactly sure where he was going, given that he was still wearing his clothes from the night before and he hadn’t showered. His dad would throw a fit if he saw the state he was in, that thought alone was enough to make Draco grin. 

“Dray, you smell like a brewery,” Pansy complained as he walked into her dorm. 

“Don’t care, I’m not going back to my dorm while _he’s_ in there.” 

Pansy scrunched up her nose and reached for her wand, casting a quick cleansing charm over her friend. 

“I don’t want my dorm to smell like cheap alcohol and desperation, sorry,” she shrugged, “now what are you and the missus fighting about now?”

Draco rolled his eyes, “he’s so infuriating! He wouldn’t stop making fun of what I said while I was drunk, what kind of arse does that?” 

“Me, I do that. Speaking of last night I didn’t know that you knew how to dance like that-” 

“Pansy,” Draco admonished. 

“Sorry, sorry. Anyways, I know that’s not why you’re fighting, that’s so trivial. You two always make fun of each other, what is really going on?” 

Draco frowned, “you can’t say anything to Granger.” 

“What are we, twelve?” 

“That phrase has been very common lately…” 

“Draco I’m not going to tell Hermione about your harbored crush on Potter.” 

“What! How? I didn’t even tell you-” 

“You didn’t have to, it’s so grossly obvious. When is the wedding?” 

Draco’s mouth flew open, staring in disbelief at his friend. How was it that she was always two steps ahead of him, even when it came to his own feelings? 

He finally regained his composure enough to spit out an answer, “the only thing not straight about that boy is his hair, Pansy. There won’t be any weddings between me and Potter.” 

Pansy gave him one of her infamously wicked smiles, “wouldn’t be too sure of that, but whatever you say, Dray.” 

“What do you mean, of course he’s straight! He is, isn’t he?” 

“I wouldn’t know, I’m just saying, don’t jump to conclusions when it comes to sexuality,” Pansy shrugged. 

Draco huffed and flopped back onto Pansy’s bed, covering his eyes with the sleeves of his sweater. 

Pansy sighed, “go ahead.” 

Draco smiled at her, pleased that she was going to allow him to pine over Potter. It wasn’t often that Pansy let him blabber on about whatever boy had his attention, but when she did she was the best listener. 

“He smells like honey and tea, and I don’t even like honey, but it’s simply intoxicating! Not to mention his _eyes_ honestly it’s not even fair. No one should have eyes that green, and you know how I feel about green it’s my favorite color. 

“And his hair, I just want to touch it, run my hands through it. It looks so soft, do you think it’s soft?” He asked, looking up expectantly at Pansy who just smiled and nodded. He knew that really she could care less about how soft Potter’s hair looked, but he was pleased to see that she was at least pretending to be interested. 

“His lips. Merlin, they’re so red! They look as though they’ve been freshly kissed all the time, imagine how red they must get when they actually have been kissed!” 

“I hope you know that after your thirty minutes is up, you’re going to spend thirty minutes listening to me talk about Ginny,” Pansy added simply. Draco nodded eagerly, and continued on with his rant about “Harry Perfect-Lips Potter”. 

* * *

Harry’s week was going by rather quickly, he realized. It seemed like he had just been at the party only yesterday, but here he was, already in the Room of Requirement again, but this time with just Draco.

“What makes you happy?” He asked during one of their breaks. 

Draco took a long sip of his tea, looking rather lost in his thoughts. 

“I don’t want to seem negative, but honestly, as of late nothing makes me ‘happy’. Not to say I’m depressed or anything, I just feel neither happy or sad,” he finally answered. 

Harry frowned, “well, what used to make you happy?” 

A shadow of a smile fell on Draco’s face as he reminisced a more simple time, “spending the night in my mother’s room when there was a thunderstorm. Her and my mother had separate bedrooms of course, all pureblood couples do. Anyways, I always loved the rain but hated the thunder so she would let me stay with her. She’d sing to me and wrap me in her blankets and we’d watch the lightning. I always loved the lightning. 

“Formal dinner parties, not because I liked being around a bunch of stuffy adults, but it meant that Pansy and I got to play together. We were always sent out of the dining area once dinner was finished and given free range of the manor. Mostly we played indoors, usually in the drawing room. But sometimes, during the summer when the nights were warm and the lightning fairies came out, we would run around the garden and try to capture one. We never did, it’s impossible to catch one. 

“The first time I rode a broom, not a training broom, a proper broom. I was nine. My father bought me whatever one was top of the line back then and he told me to learn how to ride it. He didn’t teach me, he said that if I really wanted to ride a broom, I’d teach myself. So I did. The first time I actually flew, I felt alive. More alive than I ever have.” 

Harry stared at the blonde, stunned by his confessions. 

“Do you… Is that what you think about when you’re casting the spell?” He finally asked, his voice barely audible. 

Draco frowned, “I try. I really do. But all of those memories… they’ve been tarnished one way or another. By the time I was seven my father told me I was no longer allowed to sleep in my mother’s room, even if there was a storm. Pansy and I had to become “presentable young aristocrats” by the time we were twelve, so we weren’t allowed to leave the dining hall after dinner to play. Flying became boring once I was only allowed to do it so that I can beat you at quidditch.” 

They sat in silence, neither of them knowing what to say to the other. Harry felt horrible, all this time he believed that Draco grew up living this perfect life, when really it was no better than his own. He had both of his parents and he might not have grown up in a cupboard, but he had his own demons. 

“You don’t have to say your sorry or anything, I know that’s what you’re thinking,” Draco announced, peering at Harry over his mug. 

“No, actually I was thinking about how royally screwed up the pair of us are. I think we should call it a night, do you want to practice again on Saturday after Hogsmeade?” 

Draco nodded, “that sounds fine to me. I’ll try to come up with some happy memories that my father didn’t ruin in the meantime.” 

Harry frowned at him, but Draco just rolled his eyes. 

“Like you said Potter, we’re both royally screwed up. Don’t you fret, I’ll come up with something.” 

* * *

Saturday brought the first chilly day of the school year, telling the students of Hogwarts that summer was fleeting and that the icy winter was only months away. Harry didn’t mind, of course. He always did enjoy winters at Hogwarts more so than summers and springs, anyways.

“Today is quite a lovely day to visit Hogsmeade,” Luna said, her voice dreamy as ever. 

He was currently walking with Delilah on one side of him, holding onto his arm for dear life, along with Neville, Luna, Ron, and Hermione. They had decided it’d be a good idea for the three couples to walk to the town together and then split up once they arrived. Harry was quietly dreading the time he was about to spend alone with Delilah, but he promised himself to remain optimistic. 

“I much rather like the summer, but at least it’s not too cold,” Delilah added, wrapping her free arm around herself. Harry grimaced at the thought of yet another thing they didn’t have in common. 

Harry caught a sideways glance from Ron who knew him all too well. He knew for a fact that Harry loathed the summer, and if he hadn’t told him enough how much of a mistake this date was, he was telling him again with his blue eyes at that moment. Harry, however, wasn’t going to let anyone ruin the prospect of a possible relationship. 

Harry cleared his throat, “so Nev, Luna, what are you two going to be up to today?” 

“I think we’re just going to the Three Broomsticks for a bit, grab some lunch and butterbeer. Maybe stop by George’s new shop,” Neville answered. He was wearing the flowercrown Luna had weaved him over a week ago, it had become his new favorite accessory apparently. 

“What are you and Delilah going to do?” Ron asked, butting into the conversation Harry had purposely made to ignore him. 

“We’re going to Puddifoot’s for some tea, and to Honeydukes after so I can restock my stash,” Harry answered quickly, shooting a warning glance towards Ron who was grinning stupidly. 

“Well this is where we split!” Hermione exclaimed, breaking the tension. The group said their goodbyes and then he was alone with just Delilah. 

“Shall we?” He asked, a nervous grin on his face. Her blonde hair bobbed enthusiastically in answer and they were on their way to Madam Puddifoot’s. Harry just hoped it wasn’t as much as a disaster as his date with Cho had been all those years ago. 

They settled into a booth in the far corner of the shop, thankfully away from watchful eyes that would undoubtedly run to the Prophet as soon as they saw Harry with another “mystery girl”. They had only just recently stopped publishing articles about his breakup with Ginny, he didn’t need anything else on his plate. 

Their conversation was light and surprisingly easy, but it was horribly obvious that they wouldn’t make a good match. They were polar opposites with little to nothing in common. 

“Harry, I really must tell you the reason for why I actually invited you here,” Delilah confessed, her face pressed with worry. Harry inwardly groaned, preparing for yet another confession of love towards him. 

“I’m a seer, and I’ve seen your entire future,” she whispered, her face uncharacteristically seldom. 

Harry couldn’t help it, he let out a bark of a laugh, “that’s a good one, Lilah. What’s the real reason, though?” 

Her face didn’t change, instead her eyes grew more serious as she began pulling out sheets of parchment from her bag. 

“My name is Delilah Hill, but my mother’s maiden name is Hazeldine. I come from a long line of witches who have the incredible power of seeing. I’m the real deal, not like Professor Trelawney, who is a seer but not a very good one. I regularly see prophecies and I can remember them, unlike most wizards and witches with my ability. I’m currently the most reliable seer in the world, ever since my mum died in the war, that is.” 

She laid out a stack of sheets on the table, covered with indistinct writing, it appeared to be another language, one that was most likely dead. 

“This, is your future. You can’t read it, obviously. Only I can, you aren’t meant to know everything that’s going to happen to you, you know? That’s why I’m only allowed to tell you bits and pieces. I’ve brought you here to tell you that you’re in danger, Harry. Well, not at this very moment I don’t think, but you will be in danger,” she said, her voice shaking with nerves. 

Harry’s mouth dropped, “but Voldemort is dead!” 

Delilah scrunched up her nose at the use of Voldemort’s name but continued on, “you do realize he isn’t the only dark wizard to ever exist nor is he the last. The danger you face isn’t as grave as it’s been in the past, but it’s danger none the less. I just wanted to warn you, be careful who you trust.” 

Harry took a deep breath, pressing his fingers to the bridge of his nose, “look, I understand you mean well by telling me this, but I don’t understand _why_ you’re telling me this. If it’s in my future, there’s nothing I can do to change it, right?” 

“Well not necessarily. There’s nothing you can do to change some things, like the way you die, or who you end up marrying, but that doesn’t mean you can’t avoid making poor choices that will make your life harder. I’m just saying, you should be more careful with who you trust and what not,” she shrugged. 

Harry nodded, “thank you for telling me, even though I still don’t understand really. Does this mean you don’t have a crush on me?” He asked shyly. 

Delilah broke out into a huge smile, “I actually have a boyfriend, so no, I don’t fancy you like that. Just doing my duty as a seer, really. Plus I know who you end up with so I wouldn’t waste my time dating you.” 

Harry’s interest suddenly piqued, “who?” 

“I told you I can’t tell you everything, even if I tried the words would come out in another language. People aren’t meant to live in complete knowledge of what life has in store for them. I can tell you that your love will be very passionate, though. So look forward to that.” 

Harry groaned, “you can’t even give me a hint?” 

“Nope, now finish your tea, I despise this place,” she giggled, sipping the last of her tea. Turns out the two of them did have a few things in common. 

* * *

“So?” Hermione asked, looking at Harry with expectant eyes.

They were laid out in the wildflower field, just returned from a long morning at Hogsmeade. Delilah had left Harry once they returned back to the castle with a hug and a final warning. He still wasn’t sure if he wanted to tell Ron and Hermione, he couldn’t help but feel like he had drug them through too much of his drama already. 

“It was nice, she just wanted to talk, actually. She has a boyfriend,” Harry shrugged, not looking up from the flower he was picking at. 

“Oh, Harry. Are you okay?” Hermione asked while Ron tried to conceal his giggles. 

“Must I remind you that I didn’t agree to the date in the first place, you did that for me. Anyways, we have absolutely nothing in common, it wouldn’t work either way. She is good company though.” 

Hermione flushed, “sorry again about that. I just want to see you happy, I get a bit too excited sometimes I suppose.” 

“It’s fine, really. The date wasn’t bad, like I said, she’s good company,” he shrugged. 

Ron frowned, “I feel like there’s something you aren’t telling us.” 

“Well I ordered the earl grey tea this time rather than the peach-” 

“ _Harry._ ” 

“There really isn’t anything,” Harry laughed, “we had a good time. I bought a bunch of candy and drank a lot of tea and she talked about how great it is to be a Hufflepuff. Very relaxed morning.” 

Ron stared at him for a bit, examining his face, but gave up on trying to get whatever he was hiding out of him. Harry wasn’t sure why he wasn’t telling him, but it was most likely due to underlying guilt he still harbored. He would never forgive himself for the scar that read “mudblood” on Hermione’s arm or the loss of Ron’s older brother, Fred. 

So instead he did what he did best, bottled it in. 

“I’ve got to go meet Draco for extra lessons,” Harry said, standing up from his comfortable seat in the bed of flowers. 

“More lessons? Do you guys ever have any fun?” Ron asked. 

Harry rolled his eyes, “it’s not like the lessons aren’t fun, they’re challenging but we both learn a lot. Plus I don’t have to do much today, we’re doing patronus work.” 

“Okay, have fun on your da - OUCH - lessons! Have fun with your lessons!” Ron exclaimed, struggling to keep a straight face as Hermione elbowed him in the stomach. 

Harry nodded, feeling rather confused at the interaction and started his trek to the Room of Requirement. He wondered if it would be too far to tell Draco about what had happened with Delilah. He wanted to tell someone, but it just didn’t feel right to tell Ron or Hermione. Draco was the only person he really wanted to talk to about it, anyways. 

He arrived to the Room of Requirement and was thoroughly surprised to find it empty. Usually Draco was waiting for him and in turn scolding him for being late. He shrugged to himself and took a seat in the comfortable couch that was always present during their lessons. 

Minutes passed by and then slowly turned into hours, and after two hours Harry decided to give up and head back to the dorm. Draco obviously wasn’t going to show for whatever reason, and Harry couldn’t help but be annoyed that he was stood up. He walked back to the dorm, brainstorming ideas for what he would say when he saw Draco next. 


	8. Awol

**Awol**

Much to Harry’s dismay, he never did get to scold Draco for skipping Saturday night’s lesson. Draco didn’t return to the dorm that night nor did he return Sunday, and Harry found himself increasingly concerned for the blonde boy’s well being. 

“Pansy doesn’t know where he’s gone either, she said he wasn’t here when she returned from Hogsmeade,” Hermione explained, a worried frown plastered on her face. 

Harry’s stomach churned. It was unlike Draco to just drop everything and leave, and it was even more unlike him not to tell Pansy he was leaving. 

“Do you think… do you think he’s okay?” Harry asked, his voice small. 

“Oh, Harry, please don’t worry yourself ill. He’s probably fine, maybe there was a family emergency!” Hermione exclaimed, trying to fake a smile. 

The Great Hall brought an eerie silence that only meant more bad news, and Harry could feel his throat tighten as they took their seats at the eighth year table. 

Hermione immediately tore open her copy of the Prophet that was waiting for her at her usual seat, and Harry watched as her face fell into a sullen gape. 

“What… what is it?” He asked timidly, not sure if he really wanted to know what happened. 

“It’s Lucius, he was found dead in the Manor. Narcissa is missing… oh poor Draco. It says that he’s planning the funeral all on his own, that’s where he’s gone!” 

Harry couldn’t help but sigh in relief, at least he knew that Draco was safe. A twinge of guilt coursed through him as he realized he hadn’t even felt bad about Lucius’ untimely death, instead his heart ached for Draco. 

Harry looked up and down the table, noticing that all of the ex-Slytherins seemed to be missing from breakfast. It must have hit them rather hard, seeing as it could be any of their parents that was mysteriously murdered. 

“They think it was Narcissa…” Hermione whispered, her eyes still glued to the paper. 

Harry shook his head, “it wasn’t her. Narcissa… she couldn’t. She loved Lucius, no matter what he did.” 

Ron frowned, “it does seem a bit odd, her husband turns up dead in their home that they’re locked up in, and she flees the country? You have to admit, that’s a bit shady.” 

“There’s something else, something we aren’t seeing. Merlin, this must be hard for Draco,” Harry cursed. 

“Maybe you should owl him? See how he’s doing,” Hermione suggested, finally looking up from the paper. 

Harry nodded, “that’s a good idea in theory, but I’m not sure how Draco would react. He’s… different. He might see it as me pitying him, and he hates that.” 

“Boys are so dreadfully complicated, at least send him some chocolates, let him know you’re thinking about him!” 

“Okay, okay. You act as though he’s my husband,” Harry groaned. 

Ron bit his lip and stared down at his plate of food, resisting the strong urge to answer, “that’s because he is.” 

* * *

It was lonely in room 8, Harry realized.

He hadn’t noticed how much Draco’s presence impacted his everyday life. He found it hard to fall asleep without him in the bed next to his, and he found it even harder to wake up without having him to tease in the morning. 

Only a year ago Draco meant nothing to him, he was just another nuisance and a death eater. But now, Harry considered him a friend, and a close friend at that. It was really confusing to him, how he could just go from hating the boy the liking him within a few weeks. Maybe they were meant to be friends all along, they just never took the time to get to know each other. 

A soft knock on his door brought him back to consciousness. Rising from his bed he wondered who would be coming to visit him so late, Hermione and Ron were surely out doing… whatever, and no one else had ever come up to his dorm. 

He opened the door and a very upset looking Pansy Parkinson barged in, flopping down face first into Draco’s empty bed. 

“Um, hello Pansy.” 

He was answered with a loud sob, and Harry suddenly realized how bad he really was at the whole comforting people thing. 

“Are you - Is everything okay?” He asked, taking a seat on the edge of Draco’s bed. 

“No, everything's not okay. I miss Draco and I know you do too,” she sniffed, “so we are going to miss him together.” 

Harry blushed wildly, “um, okay. How do we… how do we do that?” 

“Well, you’re going to sit down on this bed and play with my hair, and I’m going to talk about how great Draco is, and you’re going to listen and occasionally add on to what I’m saying,” she insisted. 

Harry nodded slowly, “okay. I’m not very good at playing with hair though.” 

“You’ll learn, they always learn.” 

Harry wondered idly how many people had been forced to Pansy’s hair, but instead of asking he found himself getting more comfortable on the bed identical to his own. The only difference was the heavy scent of lavender and fresh laundry, which was very undeniably Draco. 

Pansy leaned back, scooting her head onto Harry’s lap and he found that playing with her hair was much easier than he had anticipated. It was rather soft and glossy between his fingers. 

“Draco is so good at everything,” Pansy whispered. Harry almost laughed, because that was definitely not true. 

“He’s not good at everything, I think you know that. But he’s great at a handful of things and that makes up for it,” Harry whispered back, his hand twisting a strand of her hair softly. 

Pansy blinked in agreement, “he’s really good at singing, did you know that? He doesn’t sing much anymore, but he used to sing constantly. Slytherin common room was his stage, and muggle music was his guilty pleasure. He never did it when anyone else was around though, only when it was me and Blaise. Always too shy to do it front of anyone else.” 

Harry couldn’t help but think back to the night of the party, the night when Draco said he’d sing him a lullaby if he wasn’t so drunk. He suddenly wished that Draco had sang to him. 

“He really likes pumpkin pasties, I think they’re really gross. He thinks they’re brilliant. One time him and Blaise had a pumpkin pasty eating contest and he won. He threw up afterwards because he ate twenty-three of them but we were so proud. He’s so angelic.” 

This time Harry couldn’t hold back a chuckle, “are you sure you aren’t in love with him?” 

“No, not in love with him. I’m super gay. For your ex girlfriend, mind, although I don’t think she fancies me quite yet, still working on it. Draco is like a brother, or maybe even a twin. He’s like my other half in the most platonic way possible,” she whispered, and he noticed that Pansy’s eyes were still leaking silent tears. 

“Hey, it’s going to be okay,” Harry whispered in return, stroking her hair softly, “he’ll be back. He’s going to be upset, I’m sure, but he’ll come back.” 

“I just worry about him. You didn’t see him last year… he wasn’t even alive, he was just a shell of himself. I don’t want him to ever be like that again.” 

Harry remembered the look of death in his grey eyes last year when they were captured. He really didn’t look like himself then, just a shadow of the person he was. Even at the last battle he seemed to lack the usual lustre that he possessed. 

“Well he has you, and he’s got me too now. He’ll be okay, we’ll make sure of it,” Harry reassured her. 

Pansy sniffed and raised a hand to her puffy cheeks, swiping a tear away, “thank you, Harry. Really, you have been great for him. Now I’ve got to go, Hermione and I are painting each other’s nails tonight,” she said, rising from the bed and rubbing her face once more to get rid of any last trace of tears. 

“Night, Pansy,” Harry smiled, waving softly as she left the room. 

He wasn’t sure why, but he fell asleep in Draco’s bed that night. 

* * *

Draco didn’t come back to Hogwarts until Friday afternoon, he was gone for almost a week, and Harry was in shambles by the time he returned.

As much as Harry wanted to talk to him, to ensure that everything was okay, he knew it wouldn’t be wise for him to try. Draco was more reserved than ever, not even making eye contact with anyone as he walked into the Great Hall for dinner. 

That’s the first time Harry saw him since before his Hogsmeade trip. He looked the same, his hair was still white blonde and messily pushed back (had he stopped using sleekeazy?) and his tall, thin frame moved gracefully across the room. He was wearing a black turtleneck sweater and black jeans, muggle clothes. It was odd to see him wearing something that wasn’t a ridiculous robe, but it had become normal for Draco to wear casual clothing more often. 

Aside from his normal features, Harry noticed the dullness of his grey eyes and the gauntness of his face. He looked as though he hadn’t had a proper meal in days, and Harry wanted nothing more than to force feed him right there. 

“You’re staring,” Hermione whispered into Harry’s ear. He blushed furiously and turned back to his plate, stealing glances of the forlorn looking boy every once in awhile. 

Dinner seemed to drag on forever but Harry knew he couldn’t just skip the meal all together, he didn’t want to look too eager to see Draco again. So instead he took his time, chatting casually with his friends and eating two helpfuls of treacle tart for dessert. Finally, the eighth began clearing from the table and he was able to run up to his room. 

“Sorry, can’t hang out tonight, I’ve got to wake up early tomorrow to… to see McGonagall! Yes, I’ve got to see McGonagall in the morning, okay. Um - goodnight!” He rushed out, before bounding up the stairs to his dorm. 

Draco was already sat in his bed, cross legged and staring at nothing in particular. Harry stalled at the door to take in the image of him briefly before finally crossing the threshold, shutting the door quietly behind him. 

Draco sighed, “let’s get this over with.” 

“What do you mean?” Harry asked, furrowing his brows a bit. 

“You’re going to ask me loads of questions about loads of things that I don’t really want to talk about, but I’ll answer them anyways,” he answered simply, patting the spot next to him. 

Harry took his cue and plopped down on the bed, the same spot he had sat when Pansy had visited. 

“What’s your favorite color?” He asked quietly. 

Draco turned his head sharply, looking at Harry in confusion, “green. Isn’t it obvious?” 

“‘Spose so. Just wanted to make sure. Mine is blue,” Harry answered, “what’s your favorite food? Other than pumpkin pasties, Pansy told me you like those quite a bit.” 

“Why are you asking me these things?” 

“You need to take your mind off of this. We can talk about what happened later, but for right now we’re going to learn useless facts about each other. Now, favorite food?” 

A hint of a smile fell on Draco’s face, “I like shepherd’s pie. We didn’t have it often, it wasn’t posh enough I suppose. It’s a bit of a special treat in my eyes, I suppose. Did she tell you about the pasty eating contest?” 

“My favorite food is treacle tart, and yes she did. She also told me you threw it all up after,” Harry laughed. 

“She’s so embarrassing,” Draco groaned. 

“She loves you a lot, she was really worried,” Harry whispered. 

“I know. I love her too. Can we get back to the useless questions? This is getting too deep.” 

They were up until the odd hours of the morning, going back in forth, learning every unimportant detail about each other. It was nearly 5 AM when the conversation shifted. 

“It was a killing curse,” he whispered, his head resting on the wall behind him. 

Harry nodded, “I read about it in the Prophet.” 

“It wasn’t… I hope you don’t think my mum-” 

“No. I don’t believe she did it for a second. Have you heard from her?” 

Draco hesitated for a second then nodded, “don’t tell anyone. She owled me that first night I was back in the Manor. She’s safe now, in hiding.” 

“Does she know who it was?” Harry asked, his voice barely a whisper. 

Draco shook his head, “she heard him yell and saw the green light. She apparated before she got the chance to see who it was.” 

“Will you be safe? After Hogwarts, they won’t come after you, will they?” 

Draco hesitated once more then stood up from his bed, walking over to the small suitcase that was still packed from his trip. He pulled out a stack of parchments and brought them over to the bed. 

“I’ve been getting these all week,” he whispered, handing them over to Harry. 

Each parchment was completely covered in small, tidy handwriting. Harry only had to read one line to realize what they were: death threats. 

“Malfoy…” Harry whispered. 

“I know I should report them but really, who is going to give a shit?” He laughed bitterly, gesturing to his left arm, “all they see is this mark.” 

“That isn’t fair, you had your trials, you were a child! The Wizengamot said-” 

“Life isn’t fair, Potter. No one cares what the final ruling was, do you know how many people vouched for me to get the death penalty? The dementor’s kiss? Honestly, I’d probably be dead right now if it weren’t for legality issues.” 

Harry frowned, “I still think you should tell someone, McGonagall at the very least.” 

“If it will help you sleep at night, I will tell McGonagall in the morning.” 

“It would, thank you. Other than that stuff… are you okay?” 

Draco let out a sigh, “I think I am. It’s just, I feel guilty because I’m not even grieving over him, I’m just worried about my mum…” 

“Well it’s hard to grieve over someone who ruined your happiest memories,” Harry pointed out. 

Draco smiled faintly and nodded, “if I lose her, I don’t… I don’t know how I would be able to breathe. Does that make sense? I feel like the air in my lungs would be taken out from under me.” 

Harry thought about the prospect of losing Sirius or Remus and cringed, “yeah, I think I understand. She’s okay now, isn’t she? They won’t find her?” 

Draco shook his head, “no, she’s very safe where she’s at. They won’t find her.” 

“Are you… are you going to join her? After we graduate?” 

Draco bit his lip, “a part of me thinks it would be best, but another part of me is sick of running. I haven’t decided yet.” 

“I know what you mean, about the running away. It get’s old really fast.” 

Silence fell between the two boys, only the sound of their quiet breathing floating in the air. 

“I think I’m going to go to bed,” Harry finally stated, sitting up from his comfortable position. 

Draco frowned but nodded, “you realize it’s nearly time for breakfast?” 

“Yeah, sorry about that.” 

“Don’t apologize. You - you really helped, so um -” 

“You’re welcome, Malfoy. Now go to sleep, I’m sure Pansy will be up here by noon to attack you with her love,” Harry laughed. 

Harry found it much easier to fall asleep that night. 

* * *


	9. Enliven

**Enliven**

“Can you smell magic?” Harry asked, his voice barely above a whisper. 

Draco’s eyes shifted so that he was looking at him with a sideways glance, “what the actual fuck is wrong with you?” 

Harry smiled, “I can smell magic. Is that weird?” 

“Well I wouldn’t say it’s normal, but there isn’t much normal about you at all I suppose.” 

Harry scowled, tossing a pillow across the room at Draco who was perched on his chair, writing furiously at his desk. 

“I can feel it,” Draco whispered, looking down at his parchment with extreme focus. 

Harry cocked his head, “feel it? And you say I’m not normal.” 

Draco sighed, leaning back in his chair with his arms above his head, revealing a sliver of his milky white hip bones causing Harry to shudder. 

“It’s like… waves? Does that make sense? Like vibrations I suppose, coming off of people when they cast spells - or sometimes it pours off of them when they’re just sitting there. Depends on the witch or wizard I suppose, the more power the stronger the frequencies. I’ve been told I’m quite good at ‘feeling’ magic,” Draco explained. 

“For me it’s scents,” Harry started, “for instance… when Ron casts a spell I can smell the burrow and broom polish. With Hermione it’s old books and roses. Everyone has a unique smell, some better than others.” 

Draco hesitated for a second, “you… do you remember _his_ scent?” Besides genuine curiosity, Draco couldn’t stop himself from asking because he couldn’t forget the burning effect the dark magic had on his skin. Some nights he’d wake up with the feeling crawling on every surface of his body, begging him to claw it away. 

“It was like nothing I’ve ever smelled before. It didn’t stink, like Cormac McLaggen, his smells like dirty socks and rotten pudding. Voldemort’s was almost… euphoric? Is that the correct word? It was like musk and the sea, it smelled dangerous. That’s the easiest way I can explain it.” 

Draco bit his lip, it made perfect sense that the Dark Lord would have such a deep scent, something that words could hardly explain. Before he could stop himself he was spitting out the question he swore he wouldn’t ask, “what does mine smell like?” 

If Draco wasn’t staring down at his paper with intent, he would have noticed the bright red blush that grew on Harry’s face as he spoke. Or the way he couldn’t stop picking nervously at his nails. 

“Lavender, mostly. And clean laundry, the kind that has been air dried in the sun.” 

Draco nodded, hiding a smile with a curtain of hair that was almost too long for his liking now. 

“What do I feel like?” Harry asked, feeling more brave. 

Draco let out a shaky sigh. How was he supposed to keep his answer tame? How was he supposed to not tell Harry that he felt like a million crashing waves falling over him and that his skin tingled every time he entered the room. The boy was radiating a harsh sea of powerful magic at all times. He had only known of two other wizards that held that sort of power, one being Dumbledore and the other being Voldemort. 

“You’re much more powerful than you think,” he let out, finally composing himself, “you’re the type that doesn’t have to cast a spell for me to feel your magic. It’s constantly vibrating off of you, like it can’t be held in the confines of your body.” 

Harry frowned, “is that bad?” 

Draco let out a shaky laugh, “it’s not the bad sort of power. It’s a lot like Dumbledore’s, but still different. Almost serene, calming, but still turbulent at times. It changes a lot depending on your mood as well, I can almost always tell what you’re feeling by your magic.” 

“Well that’s no fair, how am I supposed to be mysterious?” Harry asked, producing a fake pout. 

“Potter, even if you didn’t have a fuck ton of magic radiating off of you that I could read, you could still never be mysterious.” 

Harry huffed but silently agreed, along with being horribly oblivious he tended to wear his heart on his sleeve. Everyone always seemed to know exactly what he was feeling even before he did at times. 

They fell into a companionable silence, much like they always did when they were both working in their dorm. Harry found that it was much more peaceful to stay up in his room during his free periods rather than trying to get studying done in the library. Ron and Hermione tended to use their time doing who-knows-what so that left him alone anyways, and his homey room beckoned him each break. 

It was odd really, how much had changed over the last few months. Last year at Halloween he hadn’t even known what month it was, since he was living in the wilderness searching for pieces of Voldemort’s soul. He would never had thought back then that he’d even make it to see another Autumn, let alone would he be back at Hogwarts, sharing a room with Draco Malfoy. 

But even so, it was oddly comforting. Change had never been something Harry greeted with open arms nor something he’d push away, but now he found that these specific changes were pleasant. 

Still yet, there was something inside of him that he couldn’t quite place. He had his suspicions, of course, but he kept them tucked away, hidden behind his Luna box and only speculated on these thoughts when he accidentally let his mind wander. 

So maybe there were times he caught himself staring a bit too intently at Malfoy, and maybe he found his blonde hair rather appealing since he stopped using so much Sleekeazy. There was only a few times that he had the impulse to run his hands through it, but of course he never did. 

He wasn’t attracted to Malfoy, he was a bloke, and an annoying one at that. Annoying and infuriating and he made his blood boil like no one else. _Stupid Malfoy,_ Harry thought, as he laid back on his bed, trying ridiculously hard not to think of white blonde hair and intense grey eyes. 

* * *

Harry woke up to the sharp peck of what could only be Sirius’ annoying owl. He groaned, inwardly making a joke about how the owl was almost as annoying as it’s owner. He made a mental note to use that one the next time he saw him.

“I haven’t any owl treats, so just head on to the owlery,” he grumbled, plucking the stack of letters from the angry owl’s talons. In response, he received yet another peck before “little shit” (as Harry dubbed him) flew away. 

Harry let out another groan once he realized what all the letters were; fan mail. He thought that he would be safe from the inevitable, seeing as no one had known where exactly he was living. He secretly hoped that it was all still being sent to Privet Drive, just in spite of his relatives. 

Apparently, however, his adoring fans had found out about Grimmauld Place, and now Sirius was receiving bundles of these letters at a time. He also didn’t seem too pleased about it, considering the note he sent along with it that could only have been worse if it were a howler. 

Always the nice guy, Harry couldn’t help but at least flick through each letter. He was never able to just burn them, but he wasn’t like Gilderoy Lockhart who sent back replies just to boost his own ego even more. Every once in awhile, he found a gem in the stacks of proclamations of love and lust. He had a small collection of children’s drawings depicting Harry as their hero, and he cherished them. 

This time, however, he received nothing of the sort. Instead he received numerous letters from girls and boys alike, all written in loopy script and decorated with delicate hearts. Harry shuddered at the thought of what Valentines would be like if people were sending things like this only days before Halloween. 

His heart sank at the realization. Halloween. It was only what, two days away now? He and Draco had already cancelled their lessons for that day, since it fell on a Wednesday and Harry didn’t think he’d have the emotional capacity to deal with patronuses when all he could think about was _them._

In years past it hadn’t affected him much on the anniversary. He felt a twinge of pain and loss on Christmas and birthdays, but ever since coming to Hogwarts, he found that he was almost too busy to think about their deaths. 

Now, he had all time in the world to be sad. Just like it had been when he was living with the Dursleys. Back then he dreaded Halloween, his relatives decided it would be the perfect day to treat Harry even worse than usual, and he spent most of the day holding back tears at the thought of what could have been, had his parents not died. 

So it was easy to say that he was in a foul mood leading up to the cursed day. He wasn’t the only one, of course. Sirius and Remus were both on edge, unwanted memories of their past coming back to haunt them wasn’t exactly their idea of a fun time either. Harry wondered if it was even worse for them, seeing as they actually got to know James and Lily. 

He sighed, flopping back down onto his bed, his letters scattered around him. He knew Draco would scowl and tell him to clean it up when he returned from his afternoon classes, but Harry was much too tired and sad to even think about waving his wand. All he wanted to do was pout, and pout he would. 

Of course, as always, his session of self pity was interrupted preumptively with a sharp knock at his door. He almost laughed at the memory of the last person who had visited him out of nowhere and for a second he wished it would be Pansy again. 

Instead, waiting outside his door was Hermione and Ron, looking equally concerned. Before he could say anything, they were pushing themselves in and making themselves comfortable on his bed. 

“Make yourselves at home, I suppose. Would you like me to rub your feet as well?” Harry grumbled, but a pleasant smile fell on his face. 

“You shouldn’t be alone. Not now, not so close to the day,” Hermione said simply, studying her bright emerald nails. Harry smiled, knowing that Pansy was the culprit of the Slytherin-esque paint job. 

Ron nodded in agreement, pulling out a moleskin pouch from his pocket. Harry recognized it as the one that he had received from Hagrid on his birthday, Harry had received a nearly identical one on his own. They both found the best use for them was to store their sweets that they didn’t want stolen by anyone else. Hermione scolded them endlessly for the impracticality of their uses, telling them that they could store actual important things within the bag, but Ron and Harry were just as stubborn as she was determined, and so they became the sweet sacks. 

Harry saw Hermione roll her eyes but bite back her nagging as Ron pulled a sugar quill from the small bag. 

“Do you guys want to help me sort through the rest of this fanmail?” Harry asked, lifting up another stack of letters that he had yet to sort. 

“Not particularly, we should do something more fun. I feel like we’ve lost our Gryffindor sense of adventure,” Ron whined. 

Harry scoffed, “I’m quite adventured out, I think. Spending nearly a year searching for pieces of a sociopath’s soul can do that to you, I suppose.” 

“That’s bollocks and you know it! I can sense the need for trouble radiating off of you!” Ron grinned. Harry couldn’t help but think about what Draco had said about being able to “feel” his magic and emotions. 

And _maybe_ Ron was right, Harry did miss some of the thrill of doing something completely impulsive and irresponsible, but he definitely did not miss the whole “mortal peril” part. 

He finally sighed, “what do you have in mind?” 

Ron’s face broke out into a huge grin, “oh, this is going to be brilliant.” 

* * *

3 o'clock in the morning the next day found the Golden Trio back at it once again, trying to all fit under the invisibility cloak to no avail.

“This makes me feel old,” Ron groaned quietly. 

“We are old, now shut up!” Hermione hissed back, stifling a laugh. 

Of course it wasn’t against the rules for them to be out in the common room at the ungodly hour, but they still didn’t want to wake the other eighth years. In true Golden Trio fashion, they wanted to sneak around without anyone realizing. 

“I’ll just cast a disillusionment charm, I’ve gotten fairly good at them,” Ron whispered proudly, waving his wand over and muttering a quick spell. Apparently he wasn’t kidding about his newfound expertise, seeing that he was completely invisible now. 

Now that Ron’s impossibly tall body wasn’t taking up most of the cloak, Harry and Hermione fit rather well under it. Harry held back his jealous comments on Ron’s height, deciding to not let his disappointing 5’11 frame ruin his night. 

“So, how are we supposed to know where to go?” Harry asked in the direction of which he assumed Ron was still standing. 

“‘Mione knows where we’re going, she’ll lead the way.” 

“Oh, so this is just a surprise for me?” 

“Yes, now shut up and let’s get moving! You won’t be disappointed.” 

And disappointed, he wasn’t. 

The room was huge, nearly the size as the Chamber of Secrets, but instead of feeling too vast and empty, it was warm and inviting. The walls were a rich red and the floors seemed to sparkle with actual gold. The room was reminiscent of the training quarters that the Room of Requirement had given them in fifth year, but seemed to hold an air of elegance that the other room didn’t have. 

“Where are we?” Harry asked, his eyes tracing every corner of the room of his dreams. 

“Well, you know that Slytherin built the chamber, and I heard Hufflepuff built the Room of Requirement, turns out our father Godric built this dueling room,” Ron answered, his face lit up with a proud smile. 

“How did you find out about this?” He asked, turning to face his friends. 

“Well I was doing a bit of free reading, and I found out about this rumor so I delved a bit further into it, asked around and got a few answers from the portraits, and here we are!” Hermione exclaimed, waving her arms. 

“This is brilliant… we are going to keep this a secret, at least for a bit, right?” Harry asked nervously, not willing to share his new treasure. 

“We figured after a while we could bring Neville, Seamus, and Dean down here. Only Gryffindors can get in, so we don’t have to worry about any of the other houses meddling. We could use some sharpening up on our dueling techniques, plus it’s a good way to let off steam,” 

Harry beamed, “you two are the best. This is exactly what I needed. Can I?” Harry looked at them nervously, itching to start practicing again. 

Hermione laughed, “you two go play, I’m going to explore the room a bit more. It seems rather well equipped and I want to see exactly what Gryffindor placed in here.” 

Harry and Ron ran off immediately at her words, eyes wide like children in a sweet shop as they tried to decide where to start. 

Many hours and duels later, Ron and Harry sat breathlessly at the entrance of the room, leaning back against the cool walls. It was nearly time for breakfast but Harry couldn’t bring himself to care, the three of them were given the day off anyways so that Harry could properly mourn. At that moment, he had no interest in going to the great hall under the watchful eyes of the other students and professors, waiting for him to break down and cry or something. 

“What time are we heading out?” Hermione asked, leaning into Ron. Harry smiled at the casual show of affection between his two best friends. 

“Sirius is expecting us at ten, so I figured we should head back up to the dorms soon and maybe catch a bit of sleep, get showered, and meet up around nine to go to McGonagall’s?” 

Ron nodded, “I’m going to stop by the kitchen I think, I’m famished.” 

“I’ll go with you,” Hermione added a bit too quickly, causing Harry to laugh at her enthusiasm. 

“Well I’m exhausted, and in dire need for a nap. I’ll see you two at nine?” Harry asked, standing up from his seat on the cool marble floor. He could feel the familiar ache in his bones from dueling already and welcomed it happily. 

His friends nodded and waved, making no effort to move from their very cuddly spot on the floor. Harry almost stopped and told them to find somewhere else to complete their activities, but decided against it. He’s just have to scourgify the hell out of the room the next time he returned. 

The walk back to his dorm was long and tiring, especially since the Gryffindor Dueling Room was all the way on the other side of the castle, located directly under Gryffindor tower. It was a wonder no one else had ever found it, he made a mental note to tell Remus and Sirius when he saw them later that day. 

To his surprise, his room was not empty. Instead, Malfoy was sitting on his bed, his shirt halfway undone and his tie wrapped loosely around his neck. Harry’s mouth went dry at the sight of his bare chest and damp hair that hung carelessly around his face. 

“What happened to you last night?” Draco asked casually, buttoning up his shirt almost too slow for Harry’s liking. 

“Uh, I - uh,” he stumbled, trying his hardest to unglue his eyes from the remaining triangle of skin that still showed bright white beneath the black shirt. 

“Ah, excellent excuse,” Draco laughed, but suddenly stopped as he seemed to have a realization, “are you okay?” 

Harry took a deep breath, preparing himself to hear those same three words at least a thousand times for the rest of the day. 

“I’m okay, just went out with Ron and Hermione last night, like the good ol’ days. No need to worry about me,” Harry murmured, falling onto his bed. He decided he didn’t even want to bother with pajamas, favoring the thought of going straight to sleep. 

Draco hesitated at the door for a second before leaving, “you can… you can always talk to me, you know? If you aren’t alright, I mean I may not really get it but I can try.” 

Harry smiled gratefully, “I’ll be fine, Malfoy. I’ll be surrounded by people all day to keep my mind off the fact that I’m an orphan.” 

Draco frowned, “don’t say that, you have your odd little family of an ex-convict and a werewolf, along with the Weasleys. And my offer stands for any day, by the way. Not just on the anniversary of your parent’s deaths.” 

Harry thought for a second that he should probably be offended by Draco’s comments about Sirius and Remus, but he realized that they weren’t mean spirited in the least. He sounded actually concerned, and rather friendly about the whole ordeal. 

“Thanks, Malfoy. Now run along, no need for you to be late on my behalf,” Harry said, shooing the blonde boy out of the room. 

* * *

Number 12 Grimmauld Place had become a boisterous home of bright colors and modern furniture in the recent months, but despite the color scheme of happy yellows and oranges, the overall mood in the house was dark and dreary.

They all wore black, which Harry found somewhat silly. He hadn’t known his parents, but a part of him knew that they wouldn’t want their family and friends to be mourning like this. The only speck of color among the dark shades was the furious bright teal color of Teddy’s hair and Harry couldn’t be more thankful for his godson at that moment. 

The clothing, dismal as it may be, was an accurate depiction of the overall mood of the day. Sirius was uncharacteristically stoic, Remus wore a concerned frown, Ron and Hermione sat awkwardly, and Harry spoke only when it was completely necessary. It was awkward and sad, really. 

Sick of the silence and aversion to the topic at hands, Harry finally cleared his throat. 

“We’re talking. And I’m not one for the whole ‘talking about our feelings’ thing so if I can do it, you two can as well,” he said, eying his godfathers. 

“What happened eighteen years ago was tragic. Is tragic. But do you really think my mum and dad would want us to just sit here, wearing all black and not speaking? I may not have known them but I damn well know they would not want us to be grieving like this.” 

Sirius and Remus nodded in agreement, still not looking Harry in the eyes. 

“We should be remembering them, the good times. I don’t have any memories of them, but I know you two do. So tell me, tell me stupid stories about them when they were in Hogwarts or about their wedding night, anything, please,” Harry pleaded, his voice cracking a bit. 

The room filled with tense silence again, and Harry almost stormed out in frustration, but then he heard Sirius begin to speak. 

“James always used to do this thing, it was really odd but comforting, he would hum non stop. It wasn’t recognizable as any songs we knew, so he must have just made them up as he went along, but there wasn’t a time where you wouldn’t catch him humming. Lily used to say she hated it, but she told me once when we were drunk that it was one of her favorite things about him.” 

Remus smiled fondly, “there was a lot of things like that, Lily liked to pretend she hated everything about him that made him James. Get a glass of firewhiskey in her, and she’d spill out that she thought it was all adorable. The hair ruffling, the constant playing with the snitch, his terrible American accents that he always tried to pull off, she loved it all.” 

“Oh Merlin, Moony do you remember that summer the four of us went to Belgium?” Sirius laughed, “Harry your father, he tried to convince this random elderly woman that he was famous in America!” 

And from there the stories continued, Harry learned that James was known for his clumsiness and general goofy personality while Lily was quick tempered and oblivious (much like Harry). He was told stories about their wedding night and how James sobbed after one too many drinks and Lily had to levitate him back home. By the end of their visit, the sad aura that had initially plagued them was replaced with a more laid back, happy one. 

As the trio and Lupin were leaving, Sirius caught Harry in his arms for a hug, whispering thanks into his ear. 

“Why are you thanking me?” Harry asked through tear filled eyes. 

“You’re so much like them but still so much of your own person, they’d be so proud of how you’ve handled all of this,” he whispered, his own grey eyes filled to the brim with tears. 

Harry found that he couldn’t even reply to his kind words, instead he brought him back in for another meaningful hug, not wanting to let go. 

“Harry, we’ve got to get back to the Halloween Feast,” Ron finally broke in, looking a bit guilty. 

“Right, sorry. Bye Sirius, I’ll see you during hols?” Harry smiled, wiping away a stray tear. 

Sirius’ face lit up in a huge smile, “course! I’ve got so much planned!” 

“Not too much, I hope. I would like to relax some.” 

Sirius gave him two fingers and stuck out his tongue before waving him off into the fire place. Harry still found himself glowing with the warmth of his godfather’s love when he stepped back through into McGonagall’s office. 

“Welcome back, Mr.Potter. I hate to do this to you, but you have a guest waiting for you outside my office,” the woman frowned, looking truly apologetic. 

Harry sighed, “it’s okay, Professor - I mean headmistress. I guess I should go attend to them.” 

McGonagall smiled weakly, “don’t do anything you aren’t up to doing.” 

Harry nodded shortly and found his way out of the office and into the arms of Professor Slughorn. 

“Harry! My Boy! I’ve been waiting for you all afternoon, I do hope you enjoyed your visit with Mr.Black,” he grimaced at the mention of Sirius’ name slightly before continuing, “I would like to invite you to my Halloween party this evening, I understand that today is very much difficult for you but as you may suspect, it is for me as well.” 

Harry stared into the grave face of his professor in brief bewilderment, unsure of what to say. He wondered how someone could compare the loss of their favorite student to the loss of a parent, but decided against arguing. 

“I don’t know, I’m feeling quite tired…” Harry began, but at the sight of Slughorn’s disappointed face he sighed, wishing he was able to just say no, “I suppose I can come for a bit.” 

Slughorn nearly squealed in excitement as he clasped Harry’s hand in his own, “excellent! Truly brilliant! I will be seeing you tonight, then. Do feel free to bring a guest.” 

Harry nodded, giving his professor a half hearted smile before watching him waddle off back towards the Great Hall. He stood there pondering for a moment, trying to decide whether it was worth the fuss to even attend the feast, and opted instead to head back to his dorm. 

The familiar scent of lavender and honey that lingered in the room was heavenly and almost overwhelming as he stepped through the threshold. He instantly felt tired and wanted nothing more than to take a nap, but once he took a quick glimpse at his watch he realized there would be no time for such things. He inwardly groaned at his politeness and suddenly wished he was much more rude than he was. 

Not long after his own arrival, Draco came in as well, arms filled with a brand new stack of books undoubtedly borrowed from Hermione. 

“How was your afternoon?” Draco asked casually, dumping the books neatly onto his bed. 

“Surprisingly enough, enjoyable. Well as enjoyable as possible for being the anniversary of my parent’s murder,” Harry shrugged, still laying back on his bed. 

Draco laughed lightly, beginning to filter through the numerous titles and genres of books that Hermione had lent. 

“Are you busy tonight?” Harry asked on a whim. He wasn’t sure what he was doing or why he was doing it, but it was happening. 

Draco raised a light eyebrow and shook his head, “I was just going to read one of Granger’s trashy romance novels, why do you ask?” 

“Do you want to come to Slughorn’s party with me? It’s going to be dreadful.” 

“You’re inviting me to a party that’s going to be dreadful?” Draco snorted. 

“We can make it fun, tell each other snarky comments about the other annoying guests, make fun of Slughorn’s speeches.” 

Draco hesitated for a second, “I don’t know if me going is a good idea.” 

Harry furrowed his eyebrows, sitting upright to look his roommate in the eye, “why not? Don’t want to be seen with me?” 

_Quite the contrary,_ Draco thought idly, but instead kept his mouth shut on the matter. 

“It’s not about you Potter, it’s just that there are certain professors and people who wouldn’t want me as company,” he said simply. 

Harry’s frown deepened, “well that’s bollocks. If they’ve anything to say about you being there I’ll remind them that you’re there with _me_.” 

Draco’s heart fluttered, but his face showed no signal of how pleased he was to have Harry willing to protect him, “oh yes, I forgot that you’re there savior. Surely they’ll be even more displeased with me for tainting you with my dark aura.” 

Harry rolled his eyes, “stop being so melodramatic and just come with me. I’ll hex anyone who says a word about you being there.” 

He didn’t know why it was so important that Draco come, but it was. He knew that Ron and Hermione would be there but they were sure to be acting coupley the entire time, and he needed someone who could keep him entertained. Draco happened to be the perfect person for that task, is all. 

“Fine, since you obviously need me, I will come with you. I must warn you, you might not be Sluggy’s favorite once you bring me to one of his infamous parties.” 

“That’s reason enough to bring you,” Harry laughed. Maybe the night wouldn’t be so horrible afterall. 

* * *

The night wasn’t _horrible,_ but it was boring. Mostly because they couldn’t really whisper back and forth to each other about the other guests as Harry was being whisked away from conversation to conversation, Draco following behind him like a quiet shadow.

That being said, Draco wasn’t having a bad time. It was admittedly fun watching Potter stammer over his words when asked what he was doing after Hogwarts, and even more fun watching him tilt his head back and laugh when someone made a joke. 

Despite his best efforts, however, he couldn’t help but feel the laser like glares shooting him behind his back. All the guests, save for Hermione, Blaise, and Harry blatantly ignored him. Even Weasley didn’t completely put him off, acknowledging him with a low grunt and a half smile. It was a bit uncomfortable, realizing you were the most hated person in the room, but when Harry turned around and gave him that reassuring smile, he didn’t even care. 

“Merlin, you are popular,” Draco murmured once they finally sat down at an isolated table, being left alone at last. 

Harry smiled weakly, “I mean I guess I understand why, killed the Dark Lord and all, but I’m not especially fond of being surrounded by people at all times.” 

“Understandable, especially when some of those older women are eying you in a more suggestive way,” Draco laughed. 

“Don’t remind me. I’ll have to show you the love letters some day,” Harry groaned. 

“Harry!” A shrill voice called out, unmistakably belonging to a certain blonde haired Hufflepuff. 

“Oof, hi Lilah,” Harry laughed as he was engulfed in a organ squeezing hug. 

Delilah sprang back, her face lit up and her eyes sparkling as usual. She had ditched her usual school robes for a floaty yellow dress, which might seem out of place for a Halloween party on anyone else, but on Delilah it made sense. 

“Hi, Draco!” She smiled brightly at the somewhat annoyed boy sitting closely by Harry, feeling overwhelmingly territorial. 

“Hello, Delilah,” he said curtly, his voice a bit cool. 

Her smile faltered if only for a second before turning back to Harry, “I just wanted to see how you’re doing, you know with the whole,” she waved her hands in a manic matter, not really clarifying what she meant but Harry understood. 

“Ah, as good as it can I suppose. Still not feeling like I’m in much danger,” he smiled sheepishly. 

Draco furrowed his brows, shooting a glance at Harry in confusion. His grin slowly melted into a nervous frown as he mouthed, “later.” 

Delilah was frowning as well, “no joking about the subject, Harry. I mean it, you must take this seriously. Let me know if anything significant happens, hm?” 

Harry nodded, “you’ll be the first to know.” 

Her face grew into her trademark smile once again, and she leaned over to kiss Harry goodbye on the cheek, waving softly to Draco as she skipped away. 

“Are you going to explain? Draco asked, not wanting to forget Harry’s promises of telling him exactly what was going on. 

Harry let out a frustrated sigh, “let’s say our goodbyes and head out, I don’t want to risk anyone overhearing us.” 

Draco nodded but concern was written all over his face, he couldn’t think of anything else that could possibly go wrong for the boy that had literally survived Voldemort’s killing curse twice. 

Their goodbyes were rushed and short, and before long Harry was dragging Draco by the hand back to the dorm. Draco didn’t mind of course, Harry’s strong hold on his frail wrist was more than enough to make him swoon. 

Harry shut the door to their room behind them, casting a quick locking charm as he did, “just in case.” 

Draco sat cross legged on his bed, as he always did, while Harry paced the room, running a hand through his ever messy curls. 

“I don’t know how to say this, mostly because I haven’t told anyone,” Harry started. This alone startled Draco, not even his two best friends knew about whatever secret he was hiding. 

“Do you remember that date I went on with Delilah?” He asked. Draco had to use every will in his body not to scoff, of course he remembered that bloody date. Instead he nodded, biting his tongue. 

“It wasn’t actually a date, she has a very serious boyfriend. A muggle. Anyways that doesn’t matter, do you know who the Hazeldines are?” 

Draco lifted his eyebrow, “yes. They’re very famous for their seeing powers, I’ve heard that there is only one of them left however…” Suddenly it clicked into place. Delilah was a Hazeldine. 

“Oh.” 

“Yeah,” Harry laughed, but then stopped abruptly, “she saw my future.” 

“Your future? Like your entire future, just laid out for her to see.” 

Harry nodded, “I’m assuming she didn’t see specifics, like what I will have for breakfast every day until I die, but you know, the important stuff. I’m in danger apparently.” 

“Wow the universe sure loves to fuck with you.” 

Harry scowled, “tell me about it. Anyways, that’s what she was talking about. She can’t tell me details even if she wanted to, I guess we aren’t allowed to know everything that’s going to happen to us.” 

Draco shook his head, “no, fortune telling is very limited. And most seers don’t like giving away too much anyways, it ruins the fun in life I suppose.” 

“Makes sense. I hate to ask you this, but can you keep this a secret? I’ll tell everyone else eventually but I just can’t, not yet.” 

“Ah, how very heroic of you. I won’t tell anyone, no need to worry,” Draco said, waving his hand nonchalantly. 

“Brilliant. Now I’m going to bed, I’m absolutely exhausted and more than ready for this day to end. Night, Malfoy.” 

Draco smiled to himself, content with his evening more than he wished to be. 

“Night, Potter,” he whispered back. 


	10. Conscious

**Conscious**

“What do you mean you got a letter from Sirius?” Draco rolled his eyes, “how many times are you going to repeat that question?” 

“As many as it takes for me to understand exactly what’s happening here! Have you opened it?” 

“No, I was afraid it might be poisoned.” 

Harry scoffed, “Sirius wouldn’t send you anthrax, Malfoy.” 

Draco gave Harry a confused look, head cocking slightly. 

“Sorry. Muggle thing. Anyways, why don’t you open it?” 

Draco hesitated for a second, “he hates me, doesn’t he?” 

Harry bit his lip. Did Sirius hate his estranged second cousin? He certainly hadn’t done anything to impress Sirius in the years past, and Harry didn’t exactly help portray him as someone his godfather would like. Surely Remus had put in somewhat of a good word, Draco was very respectful now in his classes and was very skilled. 

“I don’t think he does, but I don’t think he’s your biggest fan either.” 

Draco sighed, “I’ll open it. But if I get poisoned or cursed, you are to blame.” 

Harry nodded and watched as Draco slid a hesitant nail across the envelope, opening it cautiously. Nothing flew out at him, which had to have been a good sign. 

He pulled out the sheet of parchment and unfolded it just as slowly and carefully as he had opened the envelope, reading the lines with utmost interest. 

“Huh.” 

“What? What does it say?” Harry asked nervously. 

Draco looked up, an unreadable look in his eyes, “he’s invited me to stay for the holidays.” 

* * *

“What the actual flying _fuck_ is this?!” Harry yelled as he stepped through the fireplace into Grimmauld place.

Sirius looked up, a smug smile on his face, “hello dearest godson, what have I done to be graced with your glorious presence?” 

Harry shoved a hand through his hair, the other one waving around the letter Draco had received by owl that day. 

“Are you plotting his murder? Going to keep him captive? What is this, Sirius?” 

Sirius tilted his head slightly, a pleasant look still on his face, “I don’t understand why you’re so wound up. Isn’t it obvious? Draco would be alone for the hols at Hogwarts, and I hate to see that happen to anyone. He _is_ family. I didn’t think you’d mind, Remus says the two of you get along well now. I could take back the offer if it really does upset you.” 

Harry huffed loudly, he hadn’t even realized that Draco wouldn’t have anywhere to go. The manor was foreclosed by the ministry, and he obviously couldn’t go to wherever Narcissa was hiding. Admittedly, he didn’t want to see the boy spend those two weeks alone either. 

So why was he so enraged? He didn’t hate Draco anymore, quite the contrary actually. He had intended to use the winter break to sort some things out, but now that the person he was trying to figure out would be around, he would have less of a chance to do so. 

“Don’t take back the offer,” he finally sighed, plopping down on the bright orange couch. 

“Wasn’t planning on it,” Sirius hummed into his tea, waving a hand to summon another mug for Harry. 

Harry scoffed, “why’d you even offer to take it back then?” 

“I knew you wouldn’t let him be alone after all, I’m surprised you didn’t suggest the idea first, actually,” he answered simply. 

Annoyed at how well his godfather knew him, as always, Harry let out a sigh. He actually had thought about the idea of inviting Malfoy multiple times, but each time he was too afraid to ask. Too afraid to seem too friendly. 

“Didn’t even think about it, really,” Harry said, trying to play off not caring about Draco. 

“Hm. Well anyways, I told him he can have the room across from yours, I hope you don’t mind. Not that you care really, do you?” Sirius asked, obviously challenging Harry, trying to get more out of him than he was letting on. 

“Nope,” he said, popping the ‘p’ as he did. He wouldn’t give in that easily. 

Sirius narrowed his eyes, his gaze stealthy and searching intensely, “well then it’s settled. Would you like to stay for lunch?” 

Harry broke into a smile, breaking the tension immediately. Not that there was any real tension other than their usual bickering, they both loved to get a rise out of each other. Remus always said their relationship was a lot like his and James’ at times. Of course now, Sirius was a lot more fatherly and protective, but still liked to mess with Harry just the same. 

“Go get Teddy, you git. I’ll prepare your favorite,” Sirius laughed, shoving Harry’s shoulder lightly. 

“Chicken noodle soup?” He said hopefully, his face lit up. 

“Course. Now go get your godson, godson.” 

The bedroom next to Harry’s at Grimmauld place revealed a bright blue room complete with pale yellow and green accents. The walls were painted with enchanted animals, running around the room freely. Sirius had really outdone himself in decorating Teddy’s room, mainly because Teddy couldn’t fuss about how anal he was being about interior design. 

He was sat in his crib, his teal hair a fluffy mess on top of his head, cooing softly. At the sight of Harry, he immediately brought himself to a standing position, grasping the railing of the crib tightly and squealing excitedly. 

“Hey T, are you ready for some lunch?” Harry laughed, lifting the chunky baby into his arms. 

He continued to spew sounds that Harry could only guess meant, “yes, Harry, I am very much ready for lunch.” He couldn’t wait until he could actually communicate, he wasn’t very good at decoding baby talk. 

Once he had hauled the squirming child downstairs and placed him securely in his high chair, Harry wandered into the kitchen, watching his godfather busy himself over the stove. 

It was all so different, really. Only a year ago Sirius was forced to hide in Grimmauld place, drinking himself to unconsciousness every night. Now he was happy and peacefully domesticated, always light hearted. The end of the war certainly changed him in a positive way. 

He supposed it had to do a lot with Remus and Teddy as well. Sirius had always been very vocal and insistent on how much he wanted a “proper family” and that’s what he finally had. It wasn’t perfect, but they were happy. 

“Knut for your thoughts?” Sirius whispered, setting a steaming bowl of soup in front of Harry. He smiled gratefully, his godfather made the best soup in the UK, he reckoned. 

“Just thinking about how much I want what you and Rem have,” Harry answered truthfully. 

Sirius quirked an eyebrow as he set his own bowl down next to a slightly smaller one meant for Teddy. 

“I mean, with a girl of course,” Harry corrected, his face flushing bright red. 

“Uh huh. You can have what we have, you know? You just have to let it happen. So much like Remus in that way, really. He didn’t think he deserved all this,” Sirius said, gesturing to his surroundings. 

Harry bit his inner cheek, “I would just hate to bring a wife and kids into my mess of a life.” 

Sirius rolled his eyes dramatically, “someday, you’re going to find someone who doesn’t give a flying f- _fairy_ about who you are or what your life has been like. They’re just going to love Harry.” 

“I don’t know if I believe that.” 

“Well you should. Who knows? Maybe your person is right in front of you, and you haven’t even realized it.” 

“Ew, Sirius. You’re old and my godfather.” 

“Merlin, you’re annoying. I’m not talking about me you brat.” 

“Obviously. Who _are_ you talking about then?” 

Sirius smiled over his glass of juice, “oh Harry, you’ll have to figure that out yourself.” 

* * *

“Did you have a pleasant visit?” Draco asked, as Harry stepped back into their room.

“Uh, yeah. Sorry for leaving so abruptly, with your letter, and without explanation.” 

The blonde looked up from his book curiously, “it’s fine. So, is it all a ploy to murder me?” 

Harry shook his head, “no. He just wants to get to know you, and what better way than spending two weeks in his home I suppose?” 

Draco gave him a slight grin, “you know, if you don’t feel comfortable with me going, I can just stay here. It’s no problem.” 

“Merlin, no. You shouldn’t be alone for the hols. Plus, what’s two more weeks spent with you? Not like we’re not together all the time anyways,” Harry shrugged, plopping down onto Draco’s bed. 

Draco shifted slightly, careful not to accidentally touch the other boy in fear of the spark of electricity between them to be too much. 

“You’ll get to meet Teddy too! He’s brilliant, and he’s also your cousin,” Harry beamed. Sharing the greatness of his godson was by far his favorite past time. 

“Oh, yeah. Nymphadora’s son, right?” Draco asked, feeling a twinge of guilt. He had never properly met his older cousin, and he would never get the chance to. 

Harry nodded, “he’s a metamorphmagus just like her. Although he can’t really control it yet, but his hair changes on it’s own accord quite frequently. He is partial to teal, however.” 

Draco smiled fondly, “mother always secretly wished I’d get that trait. Father of course would have been outraged, he didn’t see it as normal. I think it’s amazing.” 

Harry tried to imagine for a second a Teddy sized Draco with ever changing hair colors and found himself stifling back a laugh. He seemed far too posh to entertain the notion of wacky colored hair, but then again, Draco was constantly surprising him these days. 

“So, what do you say?” 

“About what?” 

“Are you joining us for the hols?” Harry asked, looking expectantly at Draco. 

And obviously he couldn’t say no, not with Harry looking at him with those bloody green eyes, _Slytherin_ green eyes. And with his lip between his teeth and his hair a mess from obviously tugging at it in frustration. 

“I suppose.” 

* * *

Draco found himself strongly rethinking his decision as he walked out of the floo and straight into the arms of a man he had never met before.

“Draco! My ickle estranged cousin! Welcome to my home!” He squealed, hugging Draco tightly. 

Harry snickered in the background as he watched Draco stiffen as the hug grew tighter. 

“Oh I still see you’ve got that pureblood no intimacy thing going on. No matter, we’ll fix that soon enough!” Sirius exclaimed, finally letting go of Draco and moving on to Harry instead. 

Harry welcomed his godfather with open arms, squeezing him just as hard as he had done Draco. He suddenly realized that the holidays might be a bit more challenging than he had anticipated. 

“Harry, go show Draco his room,” Sirius said, taking Remus in his arms as soon as he stepped through the floo. 

“Yes master,” Harry said dramatically, leading Draco up the winding stairs to the second floor. 

“My room is right here,” he gestured to a bright red door with a golden snitch painted on the outside, “and this is yours!” 

The room was simple and surprisingly reminiscent of the Slytherin dorms. Dark wood decked with rich emerald bedding and silver accents, it was luxurious but not overly so. 

“Sirius gets a bit carried away with interior decorating,” Harry added, a hint of nervousness in his voice. 

“No, it’s perfect,” Draco said, and he wasn’t lying. He realized he preferred the room to his own at the manor, even though it was much smaller and not nearly as extravagant, it was perfect. 

“Right. Well I’m going to go grab Teddy, haven’t seen him in ages,” Harry paused for a moment, “if you’d like to meet him, we’ll be in my room just across the way.” 

Draco nodded idly, and once he was finally left alone in his new room, he felt that he could finally breathe. He immediately plopped onto his bed, groaning appreciatively at how comfortable it was. Hogwarts beds did tend to be a bit uncomfortable compared to what he was used to and he was grateful for the change. 

He stared up at the ceiling, mulling over the invitation Harry had just given him. He could easily say no, that he was too tired, that he wanted to rest, and lose the risk of staring too hard at Harry with a _baby._ But then he would lose the opportunity to see Harry being all domestic and probably adorable and that just seemed like too much of a loss. 

As suddenly as he made his decision, he found himself standing outside the scarlet red door, not willing himself to actually walk inside. He could hear the soft coos coming from Teddy and Harry’s gentle laughter and he suddenly felt like he was intruding. His head spun in unwanted guilt and he wished half heartedly that he had just stayed at Hogwarts. Surely he didn’t deserve the warmth that emitted from his estranged cousin nor the hospitality offered by him and his husband. And Harry was just going to let him play with his godson? He was a death eater! He tortured people, he took the dark mark, he wasn’t fit to be with a child let alone one who lost his parents in a war that Draco fought in against them! 

“Draco?” Harry whispered. Somewhere along Draco’s internal monologue he must have sensed his presence and opened his door, now he was standing only inches away with that baby on his hip. It took every last ounce of Draco’s sanity to not start bawling that instant. 

“I - I don’t think I should be here,” he stuttered out finally. 

Harry’s brows furrowed, “is there something wrong? We can switch your room if it’s not to your liking I told Sirius it was overboard-” 

“No! That’s just it, you’re all being so _nice_ and why should you be?” Draco asked, his last bit of collectivity crumbling as the words spilled out of his mouth, “I fought for the enemy! Against his mother! It’s my fault he’ll never get to know her and you’re all just welcoming me in as if I’ve done nothing wrong!” 

“You didn’t kill Nymphadora-” 

“No, but I might as well have! I was on their side, their murders are my murders!” Draco cried. 

Harry’s frown deepened as he examined the other boy carefully, “you were a child, you can’t blame yourself for your decisions - you’ve changed.” 

“Have I though? I’m nice enough to everyone, yes. I actually enjoy Granger, but there’s a part of me deep down that still thinks wizards are better than muggles! There’s a part of me that’s disgusted when they breed! How am I supposed to accept forgiveness when I’m not completely sorry?” He sobbed, finally letting out what he had been holding back since the end of war. 

“You don’t mean that,” Harry whispered, his own eyes filling with tears. 

“Yes, I do! There is still a part of me that believes in blood purity and it’s infuriating because I can’t change that, but here I am pretending I have!” 

“What’s going on up here?” Sirius asked, bounding up the stairs. He stopped for a moment, taking a look at the two crying boys having it out in the hallway before grabbing Teddy and retreating quickly down the stairs. 

“Look, _Draco_ , can’t you just accept that we forgive you even though you haven’t completely forgiven yourself?” Harry asked, using his free arm to push his hair back in frustration. 

“I don’t want you to forgive me!” 

“Then what do you want?” Harry yelled, “do you want us to hate you? Because guess what, I’m never going to hate you, and neither is anyone else in this house! The war is over, please let it just be over!” 

Draco groaned, “that’s just it, it’s not over! You know better than anyone that it’s not fucking over! There are orphans, and families who lost their children, there are twins who got separated before they deserved to be! You can pretend all you want that this war is over, but it’s not.” 

Harry blinked slowly not sure of what to say. He was beyond frustrated, here was this boy standing in front of him, someone he had grown to become close with, someone he cared about, and he wasn’t able to let go of the past. Harry wanted to scream, to throw things, to shake him by the shoulders and yell, ‘don’t you get it? I _love_ you!’ 

And that’s just it, isn’t it? He loved Draco Malfoy. 

Now, he was definitely fucked. 

“Listen,” he finally sighed, “please just stay. Get some rest, eat with us in the morning. Tomorrow we can have this discussion again. Just - don’t leave.” 

Draco’s frown didn’t falter, not even for a moment, but he nodded anyways. Before Harry could get another word in he had spun around and descended back into his room, shutting the door behind him. 

As if on cue, the sound of footsteps rushed up the stairs at the faint clicking of the door closing. Harry inwardly groaned, but smiled politely at his godfather and his whatever-Remus-is-to-him. They had yet to find a suitable title for him, that is. 

“Is everything alright?” Remus asked, seeming a bit hesitant. 

Harry sighed, leading the two men and a giggling toddler into his room silently. He didn’t want to risk Draco overhearing any of the conversation that was about to ensue. 

“He doesn’t think he deserves our forgiveness, and he’s being bloody stubborn about it!” 

“Language,” Sirius mouthed, darting his eyes warningly at Harry. 

“Sorry, I’m just frustrated,” he apologized, rubbing his forehead. 

“You can’t make him feel anyway that he doesn’t want to, Harry,” Remus began, placing a soothing hand on his shoulder. It was as if his very touch could calm Harry in a matter of seconds. 

“He’s going to brood, and whine, and he’s not going to accept forgiveness, and you’re going to have to learn how to handle that. It’s going to take time, and patience.” 

“Everything seems to take time these day,” Harry whined. 

Sirius snorted, “listen kid, you’ve got all the time in the world. Enjoy it while you can, before you get old and wrinkly like us.” 

“Speak for yourself, Pads,” Remus laughed, sticking his tongue out at his husband, “but he is right, Harry. You have time, Draco has time, and even though you are incurably impatient, it will happen eventually.” 

“What will happen? What does that even mean?” 

“What Moony is trying to say is that, in time, everything will fall into place. So don’t you worry your pretty little scarred head, things will work out.” 

“Will the scar jokes ever cease?” 

“Not likely, seeing as I still hear werewolf jokes on a daily basis.” 

“Enough, what am I supposed to do if I can’t tease two of my favorite people in the entire world? Anyways, back to the matter at hands, why are you so upset about this Harry?” 

Harry groaned, he knew this was coming. Sirius was all about getting to the root of the problem nowadays, always asking analytical questions to find out what Harry was really feeling. Worst of all, he was getting undeniably good at it and was able to read Harry like an open book. 

“I just don’t want Malfoy to feel bad for something that was virtually out of his hands. He didn’t have much of a choice,” he shrugged. 

Sirius raised an inquisitive eyebrow, “only a few months ago you were saying that he did have a choice and that he made the wrong one, pardon my confusion.” 

“I’ve just realized that some things have to happen I suppose. Why are you delving so far into this?” 

“I just think there are somethings you are choosing to ignore is all. By all means, continue on as you are, when you’re ready to really talk I’ll be waiting,” he said, smiling gently at Harry before leaving the room, Teddy babbling on his hip. 

“What does he even mean by that?” Harry asked, staring at Remus incredulously. 

“Ah, this is one of those ‘Harry you’re going to have to figure this out on your own’ type of things, I’m sorry to say. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to go make dinner. Well, I have to go watch Sirius make dinner I suppose.” 

Harry scowled but waved the older man out of his room, deciding he would rather spend some time alone rather than listening to the insights of his parental figures. 

He had an idea of what they were hinting at of course, and it was just a matter of time before Harry truly came to terms with what he was feeling. Yet he continued to push back and push back, pretending there wasn’t anything that he had to come to terms with. 

He tried desperately hard to convince himself that he loved Draco like he loved Ron or Hermione, nothing more. He tried to tell himself that he didn’t find him attractive and infuriating and okay maybe a little intoxicating. Merlin, this was getting exhausting. 

There was only one person he really felt like talking to this about, and she happened to be in Australia again, searching for her parents who were yet to be located. He supposed he could talk to Ron, but he had a feeling he’d be useless when it came to Malfoy issues. Luna and Neville were great when he needed a distraction and some cheering up, but he wasn’t sure if he could handle Luna’s riddles at the moment, and Neville would be just about as helpful as Ron. The answer was obvious, there was only one person available who could help him with his predicament. 

* * *

The burrow, despite being burnt down only a year before, was just as warm and inviting as it had always been. Molly had told him upon his moving in with Remus and Sirius that he would always be more than welcome in her home, she actually seemed a bit disappointed he hadn’t decided to move in with the Weasleys after the war. Of course, when she had offered him a room him and Ginny were still together and she was planning their wedding, so a lot had changed between then and the present time.

“Harry, dear! It’s so lovely to see you, it feels like it’s been years!” Molly chimed as he stepped through the doorway, into the cozy living room of the burrow. 

“Hi, Mrs.Weasley. It’s great to see you as well, is Ginny about?” 

Molly’s face lit up in a bright smile and Harry noticed that sparkle in her eyes that she always seemed to get when Harry and Ginny were together. 

“I ah- need to talk to her about what to get Ron for Christmas, that’s it,” Harry added, giving the older woman a stern look that said, ‘me and Ginny are not going to happen, sorry Molly’. 

“Oh, of course! Sorry, dear. She’s just up in her room, go on up, I’ll call you both down for dinner!” She sang, a sad smile on her face. 

Harry nodded politely, wanting nothing more than to escape the guilt of Molly’s broken dreams. He and Ginny really had tried to work out, but now it seemed like there was more reasons than “just not working” that resulted in their break up. 

He didn’t even bother knocking, he never did in the burrow. Well, except with Ron now that him and Hermione were together, catching them in the act once was more than he ever needed to see or know about their sex life. 

Ginny, not to his surprise, didn’t even flinch when he strode into his room and flung himself onto her warm, purple quilt. 

“What’s bothering you, kid?” 

Harry raised an amused eyebrow, “I’m older than you.” 

“Doesn’t mean I don’t feel maternal towards you,” Ginny shrugged. 

“Merlin, no wonder we didn’t work out,” Harry laughed, earning a swift punch to his arm. 

“Git. Now tell me, why have you come to see me this lovely evening?” 

“I need you to kiss me.” 

“Uh, Harry, I basically just called myself your mother, you know that right?” 

Harry rolled his eyes, “it’s for an experiment. I need to figure something out.” 

At that, Ginny bolted upright, eying Harry carefully with a mischievous smile, “okay.” 

“Okay? You’re really going to let me do this?” 

“I mean, you asked, didn’t you? Did you expect me to say no?” Ginny laughed. 

“Well, kind of. If you don’t want to do this you don’t have to-” 

“It sounds like _you_ don’t want to do this, Potter. I don’t think you really need to kiss me to figure out what’s currently going through your brain.” 

Harry rolled his eyes, and quickly closed the space between himself and his ex-girlfriend. The kiss was sweet and very much Ginny. She tasted like vanilla and cinnamon, and her lips were soft and plump against his own. He found himself very much lost in the kiss, which made things even more confusing than he anticipated. 

They finally broke, only the sounds of their heavy breathing in the room. Ginny’s giggles interrupted their awkward silence. 

“Was that as bad for you as it was for me?” 

Harry pouted, “no, actually. I enjoyed it. I didn’t feel a ‘spark’ or anything, but it wasn’t unpleasant.” 

Ginny cocked her head, “huh. I was positive something would click for you, something certainly did for me.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I like girls, of course,” Ginny shrugged, “I’ve kind of known for a while, but this cleared things up a bit more.” 

“Well, I think I like girls too,” he frowned, “which makes things even more confusing.” 

“So you did come here because you’re questioning your sexuality?” 

Harry nodded, his frown deepening, “yes, and all this did was make everything ten times harder.” 

Ginny sighed, “how many times are we all going to have to tell you that things aren’t just black and white, Harry.” 

“What do you mean?” He asked, his brows furrowing. 

Ginny rolled her eyes, flinging herself off her bed and strolling over to her bookshelf that was packed with an array of colorful books, most pertaining to quidditch. She plucked a stack of them and handed them over to Harry. 

“What are _these_?” Harry asked, by the looks of the covers they all seemed like cheesy health books with weird titles such as “Getting to Know Yourself!” 

“Books on human sexuality, Hermione made me read them,” Ginny blushed. 

Harry looked up at her, looking a bit more than doubtful. 

“Listen, they really will help. I was a bit apprehensive as well, but just give them a chance, they really cleared things up for me.” 

Harry groaned, “fine. I just don’t understand why the universe hates me.” 

Ginny scoffed, “you are such a drama queen. Being anything other than heterosexual isn’t a bad thing, Harry.” 

“I know,” he sighed, but he really didn’t know. He was raised by a family that didn’t accept anyone they didn’t deem “normal” and that included the sweet elderly lesbian couple who lived on the corner. His aunt and uncle always made a show about how “blasphemous” it was to have “people of their sort” living on Privet Drive. 

Of course he knew that the Dursleys weren’t exactly the type of people to have intelligent opinions on any matters, but it was still something he couldn’t shake off. After years of listening to his uncle spill out homophobic slurs and watching his aunt glare at young gay couples on the street, he couldn’t help but be afraid of what others would think about him. 

And to make matters worse, he had to be the sodding boy who lived. He couldn’t even go to the grocery store without the Prophet printing a story on him, how was he supposed to start dating without them making up ridiculous stories? Especially if he started dating men… well, a certain blonde haired Slytherin, to be exact. 

And why was he so sure he would even get the chance to date Draco? He wasn’t gay as far as Harry knew, in fact, Harry was sure that there wasn’t a homosexual bone in that boy’s body. Yet here he was, pining over him. It was all very frustrating. 

“Ginny, Harry, dinner is ready!” Molly called from the room below them, snapping Harry out of his internal monologue. 

“C’mon, shrink those books and put them in your pocket. Don’t need mum asking a bunch of questions as to why we have them,” Ginny said, tugging at Harry’s sleeve. 

Harry found himself paling, “w-why? Does she have a problem with… you know?” 

Ginny raised an eyebrow, “gay people? No. Charlie is homosexual and aromantic, and he’s very proud of his identity. Mum is very supportive. I just haven’t gotten around to telling her because she’ll try to set me up with one of her friend’s daughters probably.” 

Harry’s initial tension quickly subsided as he let out a shaky breath, at least Molly wouldn’t care about whatever he was. He knew Sirius and Remus wouldn’t either, considering they were in a homosexual relationship. 

So what was he worried about? If his real family didn’t care, why would it be such a big deal if he was gay? He could just live his life, dating Draco Malfoy, eventually marrying him, adopting kids, it would be lovely and perfect and he’d never have to worry about anyone’s approval. 

Of course, that was all just a silly daydream. Harry found himself becoming even more frustrated as dinner progressed, barely adding anything to the table conversation. Ron had asked why he was there, and why he hadn’t even bothered to say hello, and thankfully Ginny quickly got him to shut up with a kick to the shin hidden under the table. 

The dinner ended with mumbles of “goodbye” and “see at Christmas” as if Harry wasn’t going to be back before then. Knowing him, he’d be back the next morning in order to avoid Draco Malfoy at all costs. So much for Gryffindor bravery. 

* * *

As foolish as the books seemed, they actually ended up being more helpful than Harry had anticipated. He noted that Ginny, and indirectly Hermione, was once again right. He read through all of them that night, and found a better understanding for himself and what he wanted in a relationship.

He had never heard of a majority of the names that had been mentioned in the books, but he found that he related most to being bisexual. It hadn’t even occurred to him that he could like both men and women, and after reading the book's thoroughly he felt silly for not thinking of that in the first place. 

There was still an air of unease surrounding the whole “finding himself” thing, considering he had no idea where to begin when explaining to his friends and family that he liked boys and girls. Not to mention there was the media he’d have to worry about, along with critics who would probably bash him to no end and call him “selfish.” 

Also there was the matter of having a huge, unrequited crush on his roommate and ex arch nemesis. As much as he wanted to just scream about how frustrated he was and throw things around his room, he somehow kept his composure all during breakfast and even still when Draco confronted him in his bedroom later that morning. 

“Can we talk?” He asked, sounding a bit shy. 

Harry quickly hid one of the books he was rereading and nodded eagerly, urging the other boy into his room. 

“It’s a lot less Gryffindor in here than I expected it to be, considering your door basically embodies the damn house,” Draco drawled. 

“I couldn’t stop Sirius from decorating the door, but I was the only one who had say on the room. I wanted simple, so that’s what I’ve done.” 

Simple was the only word to describe the room, with it’s oatmeal colored walls and light blue bedding, it was as simple as the house got. The only room that went unscathed in Sirius’ interior design flurry. 

Draco sniffed indignantly, putting on a mask of disinterest that could be seen through by anyone else other than the very oblivious boy sitting in front of him. 

“So, are we going to talk?” Harry asked quietly. 

“I suppose so,” Draco sighed, finally flopping down beside Harry on his bed. 

“You go first,” Harry insisted. 

“Why do I always have to go first?” Draco pointed out, rolling his eyes in annoyance. 

“Fine. I’ll go first. I think it’s unfair to not only us but yourself that you won’t accept our forgiveness, and it’s immature.” 

Draco scoffed, “I don’t know what you want me to do about that.” 

“Forgive yourself! Let us forgive you! Move on with your damn life!” 

“It’s not that easy, Potter. If you’re going to be insensitive about this I’ll just go-” 

“No! Don’t go, I’m sorry. I really am trying to understand but this is just infuriating because we all forgive you and you can’t forgive yourself, do you see how that can frustrate me?” Harry asked, pinching the bridge between his nose. 

Draco frowned, finally letting his mask slip, “don’t apologize to me, please. I don’t deserve it.” 

Harry groaned, “I don’t know what you want, I’m so confused!” 

“Well, I don’t know what I want either!” Draco said, adding a bitter laugh to the end. 

“Look, I want to help you, but you have to let me help. Let _us_ help, Remus is actually pretty good at mind healing I’m sure it would make a huge difference if you started talking to him.” 

“You want me to start talking about my feelings? What angle are you playing at?” 

“I’m not playing at any angle, all I’m saying is that after the war a lot of us were left fucked in head, me being one of them, and Remus helped a lot with my coping. He still does, actually.” 

Draco let out an agitated sigh, “since you’re never going to let this go if I don’t, I’ll talk to Professor Lupin.” 

“Merlin, you’re staying in his home, please call him Remus,” Harry laughed lightly, earning a small smile from the blonde sitting across from him. 

“Fine, Remus,” Draco looked at him, his expression hesitant, “are you sure he’ll want to, you know, talk to me?” 

Harry frowned, “like I said, the forgiveness from all of us is already here when you’re ready to accept it. Remus holds no grudges against you. You needn’t be afraid of him, he’s a giant softy.” 

Draco nodded carefully, a wan smile spreading on his face, “I’m sorry for being so dramatic. I do really try to keep myself composed.” 

“I know, it’s fine, you don’t have to be sorry. Anyways, Ginny insists that I am the family Drama Queen, so I’ve already got that title covered.” 

Draco raised an eyebrow, “you aren’t even a little bit dramatic.” 

Harry smiled, “I keep it well hidden, Hermione, Ron, and Ginny have all seen it though. You should have heard the speech I gave when I broke up with her before the war.” 

Draco snorted, “you gave her a break up speech? Tough.” 

“I felt like it was necessary! I was being very heroic in breaking up with her and I had to let her know that it was for the greater good that we weren’t together. I think that was warning sign number one that we weren’t going to work out.” 

“You still haven’t explained why you didn’t work out,” Draco pointed out. 

“A number of reasons, I suppose,” Harry started, leaning back so that his head rested beside Draco’s legs. 

“After the war we just lost the spark we had, I suppose. The passion just wasn’t there. Molly was devastated, more so than either of us,” he paused, thinking carefully for a second, “I miss it sometimes.” 

Draco frowned, “do you think you two will get back together, then?” 

“Merlin, no. Ginny and I are very much over, and will stay that way, trust. I miss being in a relationship, I suppose. You don’t want to hear about my love life though.” 

“Actually, it’s quite interesting. I might sell your words to the Prophet, make a quick galleon.” 

Harry rolled his eyes, “as if you need any more galleons. You’re probably as loaded as I am.” 

Draco’ shifted uncomfortably next to him, “dirty money.” 

“What do you mean by that?” Harry asked, sitting up on his arms. 

“I mean, I feel a bit uncomfortable using my money on myself, if that makes sense. I like buying expensive gifts for my friends and what not, but when it comes to buying myself something new, I feel guilty,” he frowned, “I feel like it’s dirty money.” 

Harry hummed, “yep, you definitely need to talk to Remus.” 

Draco laughed lightly, “you’re probably right.” 


	11. Yule

**Yule**

The weight on his bed shifted, and Draco instantly knew that a certain scarred wizard was sitting on the edge of it. He groaned in protest, wishing he could sleep a bit longer, or all day. 

“Wake up! It’s Christmas Eve, we’ve loads to do!” Harry chimed, his voice light and happy. 

“Do you really need me there?” Draco grumbled in answer, the black haired boy far too cheery for his liking at that hour of the morning. 

It wasn’t like he had anything against the Weasleys anymore, it was just - visiting their home wasn’t exactly the first thing on his list of “thing’s I want to do this holiday!” He’d much rather laze around in bed and throw himself a pity party, which he assumed was what any sane person would do had they no real family to share Christmas with. 

“I don’t _need_ you there, but I _want_ you there. So please come?” he asked, batting his too long and far too pretty eyelashes. How was Draco supposed to say no? 

“Fine, but don’t condemn me if I feel horribly awkward and leave early,” Draco finally sighed. Harry really had no idea the effect he had on the other boy. 

“Brilliant! I’m going to go get ready, we’re leaving after breakfast,” Harry cheered, bouncing off of Draco’s bed and practically skipping out of the room. Too bloody cheery for his own good, Draco thought, but it _was_ Christmas. So maybe his outright obnoxious behavior was a bit excusable, but still obnoxious, nonetheless. 

Obnoxious the boy may be, but bloody hell, he made up for it with the pure beauty of his features. It really wasn’t fair, how good he looked so early in the morning. Draco groaned loudly, he was growing quite tired of his schoolgirl like crush. He wished he could just move on already, snog some random seventh year he wouldn’t have to see again and move on with his life. But, Harry Potter was always getting under his skin somehow, he supposed. 

Draco got ready slowly, adding to the dramatics of his, “I don’t really want to do this,” face. He pulled on his clothes at a snail like pace and spent an extra long time on his hair. He knew he’d regret both of these decisions when he didn’t have time to eat his fill at breakfast, but he wanted Harry to know that he was doing this for him and he was not happy about it. 

“You know, if you really don’t want to go, you don’t have to,” Harry had mumbled when they were finally about to floo out. Draco was astounded at how _hurt_ he sounded, and he quickly realized that him attending Christmas Eve at the Weasleys was achingly important to Potter. 

“I’m sorry, I’m being a brat,” Draco admitted, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck, “I do want to go,” he lied. He wanted to spend the day with the group of gingers as much as he wanted to stub all ten of his toes, but Harry’s face was far too sad for his liking, so he had to do _something_ about it. 

And so that’s how he ended up where he was at present, squished between Hermione and Ginny Weasley on a cushiony patchwork couch in the Burrow. Harry was off in one of the numerous bedrooms laying Teddy down for a nap while Remus and Sirius helped Molly with dinner. It was the most chaotic experience Draco could ever remember witnessing. 

To start, everyone had red hair. Well not literally everyone, but a vast majority of them did. It was hard to decipher who was who in the sea of ginger at times, especially if they had their backs turned. It didn’t help that Draco didn’t even know a handful of them. He had met Bill and Charlie for the first time, and he only vaguely remembered Percy from his days at Hogwarts and working with the minister. 

And then there were the significant others, he recognized Fleur from fourth year, although she looked quite different now that her hair was cut sensibly short and she was sporting an impressive baby bump. Angelina - with George Weasley - he knew from Quidditch, and Percy had brought a girl he had never seen before, Audrey. She was Bulgarian, from Durmstrang, and was quite intimidating, in Draco’s opinion. Of course Hermione was there as well, and for whatever reason, Luna and Neville. To say it was a full house was the understatement of the year, he couldn’t imagine what it would be like once all the Weasley spawn started popping out kids of their own. 

Harry finally clambered back down stairs, his face looking rather sleepy and stupidly happy. Draco suspected that he might have fell asleep too, which he usually did when he was putting Teddy down for a nap. He always looked so calm and glowy afterwards, and his hair was always mussed up just right and his glasses a bit crooked. Draco inwardly groaned, it was bad enough that he was constantly surrounded by Potter and his crew, but now his thoughts were constantly invaded by the bloody git as well. More so than they had been before, anyways. 

Sirius must have noticed the slight grimace on his face, because before he knew it, his cousin was cocking his head in wonder at him. Draco kicked himself for letting his guard down, he was sure to face a plethora of questions now, especially since this _was_ Sirius, and he tended to be quite the nosey relative. 

“Draco, my dear cousin, join me,” he exclaimed, standing up from his seat and reaching his hand out to Draco. 

“Where exactly am I joining you?” he asked, furrowing his brows. 

“That’s a secret, very important Black family business we need to attend to, you and I. Promise I won’t harm you, Harry would be quite pissed if I did,” he laughed, throwing Harry a sly look that seemed to throw him off balance. 

Draco huffed, but took his cousin’s hand anyways. He figured anything would be better than sitting awkwardly amongst the Weasleys. 

He was led up winding stairs, all the while he couldn’t help but think that the burrow had a ridiculous amount of floors. It wasn’t until they reached what _had_ to have been the top floor that Sirius pulled open one of the many doors and shoved Draco inside. The room looked barely used, the sparse furniture covered in a film of dust. 

“Quite nasty up here,” he mumbled, flicking his wand quickly so that the room was cleaned in a second, “back to business!” 

He plopped himself down on the shabby couch and pulled out a shrunken bottle of firewhiskey from his coat pocket, turning it back to full size before gesturing to Draco to come sit with him. 

“Are you trying to seduce me?” Draco laughed, only half kidding. 

“Merlin, no. Not into the whole incest thing like our ancestors,” Sirius snorted. Draco sighed in relief and took the bottle from his cousin’s grasp, eager for a shot. 

“Figured you’d be happy to have a drink or two, first Weasley function can be quite the culture shock.” 

Draco nodded, taking a large gulp of the burning liquid and shrugging off a grimace. He immediately felt the warmth take over his body as he slouched further into the couch. 

Sirius snatched the bottle from Draco far too quickly for his liking, but returned it after he took his own quick sip of the liquid, “they don’t get much easier,” he admitted with a wan smile. 

“Lovely,” Draco groaned, taking another long drink. He was feeling the effects already, and even though he knew it was in ill taste for him to be getting drunk at a Christmas Eve party, he couldn’t stop himself. Plus, Sirius had pressured him into doing it, hadn’t he? He could just blame him if things went to shit. 

“We’re going to have a proper talk about how shitty our childhoods were,” Sirius announced, clasping his hands together. 

Draco raised an eyebrow, “my childhood wasn’t that bad.” 

Sirius snorted, “maybe not as bad as mine, but I know for a fact that you must have some daddy issues.” 

Draco sniffed indignantly, “and so what if I do?” 

“God, none of that pureblood hiding your emotions thing. Let your bloody guard down, nobody is waiting for you to screw up anymore.” 

“What do you want me to say?” Draco spat, “that my father screwed me up beyond repair? That he was an asshole who didn’t really give a shit about me or my mother? That he ruined everything?” 

“Yes!” Sirius beamed, “that’s exactly what I want!” 

“It’s not true, though,” Draco whispered, “he wasn’t the best father, but he had his moments.” 

“I find that hard to believe,” Sirius frowned. 

“I can understand why, he was very good at hiding any sort of emotions from anyone, including my mum and I. But he loved her, and I think he loved me too.” 

“Interesting, good ol’ Lucy had a soft spot afterall?” 

Draco laughed at that, “I suppose so. It’s your turn now, how fucked up were your parents?” 

“You’ve seen the tapestry, haven’t you?” Sirius asked, he voice tinged with excitement for the story he was about to recount. 

“I have, you’ve been scorched off.” 

“My proudest moment. That was the day I came out to them, they could handle a Gryffindor, but apparently they couldn’t handle a _queer_ Gryffindor.” 

Draco smiled, “how’d you do it?” 

“Come out?” 

“No, how’d you bake those biscuits - _yes, come out!_ ” 

“Merlin, you’re a sarcastic little shit,” Sirius mumbled, but his eyes twinkled with fond, “I kissed Remus goodbye at the Platform. Regulus saw and told them, when they questioned me I didn’t deny it.” 

Draco worried his bottom lip for a moment between his teeth, “would you have told them anyways? If Regulus hadn’t sold you out?” 

Sirius looked up at the ceiling in thought, “not sure. I was afraid of them, very afraid. I thought she was going to kill me that night. It was worth it, though.” 

Draco took another long swig of the whiskey, preparing himself for what he was about to say, “you know, me too.” 

“Scared of my mum? Who isn’t?” 

“No, well yes, but no. Just - me too.” 

Sirius furrowed his brows in confusion, “I don’t think I understand.” 

Draco groaned loudly, letting his head fall back against the couch, “must I spell it out for you?” 

“In my defense, you’re being horribly vague.” 

“I’m gay. A flaming homosexual. Dicks.” 

“Oh, I figured as much,” Sirius said simply. 

“You suck,” Draco pouted. 

“Do you want me to throw a parade? Act surprised? ‘Oh dear, my cousin is a homosexual! Who would have thought! I never would have guessed, what with him making googly eyes at my Godson all day!’” 

Draco blanched, “I do not make googly eyes at your Godson.” 

“Yes, you do. He’s oblivious though, so don’t worry too much about it. And he looks at you the same way.” 

“Now I know you’re taking the piss out of me.” 

“‘M not. Harry is very much taken with you, I reckon.” 

“Lies and slander,” Draco slurred, his eyes closing lazily. 

“Not lying, just observing. Reminds me of two misfits that fell in love back in the seventies,” Sirius laughed, wiggling his eyebrows. 

“Are you comparing Harry and I to you and Remus?” 

“Yes and no, obviously it’s a very different situation, but you’re both terribly oblivious about each other’s feelings, much like Remus and I were. That’s why I’m intervening with you, you’re wasting precious time. You could be snogging him under the mistletoe right now!” 

Draco blushed at the thought of kissing Harry, what he would do to feel his perfectly shaped lips on his own was sinful in itself. He was quickly shaken from his daydream by the swatting of his arm. 

“Stop having wet daydreams in front of me, it’s weird. Now, we’re going to drink this sobering potion, and go down there and act like we didn’t just get pissed drunk,” Sirius said, producing two vials of blue potion from his coat pocket. 

Draco nodded, glad that his cousin had thought to bring a sobering potion for his little project. He sat in bliss for a moment longer, mulling over the feeling of drunkenness before swallowing the potion in one fluid gulp. 

“You don’t happen to have hangover potion, would you?” Draco moaned. If there was one negative side effect of a sobering potion, it was the worst hangovers ever. 

“Might’ve forgot that,” Sirius mumbled, clutching his head in his hand. 

“We’re meant to go back down to _that_ with hangovers like this?” Draco wanted to scream, but his head was currently splitting open and he found it unwise to do so. 

“Oh stop whining, I’m sure Molly has hangover elixirs in the bathroom, we’ve just got to make it to one before killing each other.” 

Draco groaned again, thoroughly annoyed with himself for drinking so much. Not to mention he had just admitted his deepest, darkest, secret to a family member he had only known for less than a week. At the time, firewhiskey seemed like a brilliant idea, but now he regretted it immensely. 

Somehow, they made it to a bathroom with no fatal injuries, and downed the nearest hangover elixir they could get their hands on. Draco instantly felt better, but he was still feeling rather embarrassed about spilling his feelings to Sirius. 

As if he could read his mind, Sirius gave him a knowing look, “you better not be regretting our little bonding session. Your secrets are safe with me, you and Harry need to work out whatever you two are on your own. I mean, I’ll probably tell Remus, but he’s my other half,” Sirius shrugged. 

Draco couldn’t help but laugh and feel slightly jealous at how close Sirius and his husband were. He desperately wanted that with someone, someone in particular, if he was being completely honest. 

* * *

“You don’t think Sirius would kill Draco, right?” Harry asked nervously, looking down at his watch.

“Honestly, Harry, they’ve only been gone for an hour,” Hermione said, rolling her eyes. 

“That’s an hour more time than they’ve ever spent together,” Ron pointed out. 

“Not helping, Ronald,” Hermione sighed, “they’re just talking. Sirius said he wanted to bond with him, so that’s what they’re doing.” 

“It’s bloody weird,” Harry grumbled, pouting. 

“Is ickle Harry-kins jealous?” Ron teased, punching Harry on the shoulder. 

“No,” he lied. He was jealous, but he couldn’t figure out who he was jealous of. Jealous of Draco for taking away his godfather, or jealous of Sirius for taking away his Draco? 

The fact that he was even thinking of Malfoy as “his Draco” was a nail in a coffin, Harry decided. 

“I’ve got something to tell you both,” he whispered. 

Ron seemed to perk up, becoming far more attentive than Harry had ever seen him, “go on!” 

“Well, the other night when I came here, remember Ron? I went to see Ginny, and we kissed-” 

“What the hell?” Ron exclaimed, “not what I was expecting!” 

“I’m not finished,” Harry said sternly, “so I kissed her. And I liked it, which was really confusing because I, well, Ilikeblokesaswell.” 

“What was that?” Hermione asked, tilting her head. 

Harry took a deep breath, “I said that I like blokes as well, okay. I’m attracted to men, one man in particular but that’s besides the point. I read those books you gave Ginny, Hermione, and I think I’m bisexual.” 

“Oh, Harry!” Hermione cheered, wrapping him in a hug, “I’m so glad you’ve figured this out!” 

“What do you mean ‘figured this out’? You knew?” Harry asked, gaping at his friends. 

“Well, we figured you were at least a bit attracted to blokes,” Ron shrugged, “wasn’t sure about birds, but I mean, if you like both, why not open yourself to both options.” 

“Am I that obvious?” Harry groaned. 

“No, we just know you quite well,” Hermione smiled, “now, who is the lucky man?” 

Harry blinked in disbelief, he had only confirmed his sexuality moments ago and his friends were already meddling with his “love life.” 

“No, not yet.” 

“I bet I can guess who it is,” Ron winked. 

“I’m sure you can, but I don’t think I’m ready to admit that yet,” Harry said sternly. 

“The longer you deny your feelings, the worse you’ll feel,” Hermione warned. 

“Can we at least wait til after the hols? I don’t want to be fussed about this during Christmas,” Harry whined. 

“New Years, then. Make it your resolution, mate. Tell us who _he_ is on New Years,” Ron added simply. 

Harry took a moment to think this through, was he really ready to admit to his friends and himself that he had a crush on Draco Malfoy of all people? Probably not, but he was a Gryffindor, so he nodded in agreement, “now can we let this go for now?” 

“Sure, but Harry, I hope you know how much we love you and how proud we are of you for coming out, we’d love you no matter what of course-” 

“Hermione, please, the sappiness is going to kill me,” Harry groaned. 

Before Hermione could shoot back a clever insult, however, they were interrupted by Draco’s presence once again. 

“That was odd,” he said simply, sitting down across from Harry. 

“What did he do?” Harry asked, leaning forward a bit. He immediately regretted this when he was welcomed by the overwhelming scent of Draco which sent his head spinning. 

“We just talked,” Draco paused for a second, “and got drunk.” 

“Without us! You two are the worst!” Ron complained, crossing his arms. 

“He just wanted to loosen my lips,” Draco laughed, “we took a sobering potion right after. It was a quick buzz.” 

“Merlin, he wasn’t too intrusive was he?” Harry groaned, making a mental note to scold Sirius later for tricking their guest into telling his secrets. 

Draco shook his head, “talked about family stuff, mostly. It was nice.” 

Harry hummed happily, content that Sirius didn’t permanently damage Draco, “that’s good. We’re about to eat, then we’re going home.” 

Draco tried his hardest not to seem overjoyed at the prospect of leaving the “Weasley Lair” as he had decided to call it. He almost didn’t react to Potter’s choice of words, almost. 

“Home?” he asked through clenched teeth. 

Harry raised an eyebrow, “um, yes. As in 12 Grimmauld Place, we can stay longer if you’d like-” 

“Grimmauld Place is not my home,” Draco hissed, not wanting to cause a scene but also wanting to make sure that Harry knew he wasn’t going to hear the end of this anytime soon. 

Harry must have gotten the message perfectly for once, because he let out an exasperated sigh and leaned over to whisper, “we’ll talk about this later,” in Draco’s ear. 

Draco forced a scowl to cover up the blush that spread over his cheeks surely caused by Potter’s close proximity. 

* * *

“I really don’t understand why this is such a big deal!” Harry yelled, waving his hands in the air.

Draco scoffed, “of course you don’t understand! You never understand!” 

“Merlin, you’re so dramatic,” Harry growled, running a hand through his hair, “explain then. Explain why me calling this ‘home’ on _accident_ is reason to throw a fit on bloody Christmas!” 

Draco hadn’t even realized it was officially Christmas, considering him and Harry had been having a yelling match since they stepped through the threshold of Grimmauld Place. 

“I have every right to be dramatic,” he sniffed, “and it I don’t have to explain anything to you, Potter.” 

Harry groaned, “you want me to understand, but you aren’t going to help me out a bit? You’re so difficult!” 

“You’re the one who invited me _home!_ ” Draco snarled. 

Harry opened his mouth as if he was about to say something, then shut it quickly. Instead of yelling right back at Draco, he waltzed over to his bed and laid down. 

“What are you doing, Potter? This is my room isn’t it? Don’t you have a suitable bed right across the hall-” 

“I am going to lay here until I understand, Malfoy,” he answered simply, crossing his arms across his chest and shutting his eyes. 

Draco stood gaping, “get out!” he shrieked. 

“Not going to happen. Not until I figure out what the bloody hell it is you want from me.” 

As he saw it, Draco had three options. One, he could hex the fuck out of Potter until he was forced to crawl back to his room. Two, he could yell obscenities at him until he was promptly kicked out of Grimmauld Place. Three, he could wait it out. Obviously he wasn’t going to give in and _tell_ him what was wrong, that would be defeat, and he was not about to let a Gryffindor beat him at his own game. 

The most sensible and least likely to get him sent to Azkaban option was of course, the third, so that’s what he did. He waited it out. 

* * *

“Merlin they fight like an old married couple,” Sirius whispered to Remus. They were both leaning intently into Draco’s door, listening to the war that was happening behind it.

“We’re a married couple and we don’t fight like that,” Remus pointed out. 

“Sure we do, we just have tons of make up sex that makes you forget our stupid fights,” Sirius fired back, “it’s quiet, they’ve either both killed one another or they’re snogging, I’m betting on the latter.” 

“I’m going with neither, sounds like a vow of silence of some sort, they’re an odd couple.” 

Sirius snorted, “says the bisexual werewolf who married the gay family disappointment.” 

Remus smiled, “we should let them be now, especially if they are snogging. I don’t want to overhear James’ son going at it with one of my students.” 

Sirius nodded, “I’ll race you to the kitchen, we’ve still go lemon meringue leftover from Molly’s.” 

Remus raised an eyebrow, “you’re on.” 

* * *

It was nearing three AM when Harry finally spoke.

“You’re afraid,” he said carefully, “because right now, you don’t have a home, not really. The last home you had, you lost. You don’t want to call Grimmauld Place your home, because you’re afraid you’ll lose it too.” 

Draco looked at him, unable to believe that somehow, Harry assessed his own feelings better than he had himself. 

“Draco,” he whispered, causing the other boy to shutter from the rare use of his first name, “you’re not going to lose this.” 

“Why shouldn’t I? It’s not like I deserve this.” 

“We’ve been over this,” Harry said urgently, sitting up and edging himself closer to Draco’s trembling figure, “you deserve this. You deserve happiness.” 

Draco took in a shaking breath, “I can’t - not right now, I can’t talk about this, please, _Harry,_ ” 

“Then when?” Harry asked, frustration gleaming in his eye, “when, Draco? You said you’d speak to Remus but you haven’t. You’re killing yourself with guilt.” 

“What if that’s what I want?” Draco snapped, then paused, realizing what he said. 

“Draco… do you want to die?” 

He shook his head furiously, “that’s not what I meant, okay? I just, this is so frustrating, don’t go locking me up or anything. I’m not going to off myself or anything.” 

“I wouldn’t lock you up,” Harry said quietly, “do you really think I could do that?” 

“I don’t know, maybe!” 

“I couldn’t, honestly, I couldn’t. I would never. But that doesn’t mean that I’m not fucking worried about you, now more than ever, you shouldn’t feel this way, Draco.” 

Draco let out a bitter laugh, “like you haven’t thought the same thing? That you deserve to be dead instead of them? You may be able to fool everyone else but I see it, you aren’t as okay as you’re leading on.” 

“So I’m not okay,” Harry said defensively, “neither are you! I’m still trying to help myself, I’m trying everyday to claw myself out of hell, and I want you to try too!” 

Draco licked his lips, “what if I don’t have any try left in me?” 

“No. I’m not taking that as an answer. You’re still you, infuriating, annoying, Malfoy. Malfoy doesn’t give up, not for anything.” 

Draco screwed his eyes shut, trying to force back inevitable tears. Merlin, he was crying far too often for his liking. 

“Don’t call me that,” he whispered. 

Harry looked as if he was going to ask why, but quickly decided against it, instead nodding in agreement, “sorry. I just want you to get better, do you understand? I care about you. I’ve told you that and I’ll tell you a million times more. I know you don’t think you deserve it and you can’t wrap your head around it but please - just accept it.” 

Draco let out a quiet sigh, his cheeks wet from the rogue tears that spilled against his will, “can we put this to rest for the night. I talked, I admitted, I’m a fuck up, I need help, I’m going to get help. I’m exhausted and it’s Christmas.” 

Harry laughed lightly, his face lighting up again as it had the day before at the mention of Christmas, “yeah, you’re right. Let’s enjoy Christmas and Boxing Day, then we’ll work on our mutual fucked-uppededness.” 

“Thank Merlin,” Draco muttered, then he had a brilliant idea, “since it’s officially Christmas morning, I’m going to give you your gift.” 

Harry blushed bright red, “you didn’t have to get me anything.” 

“Does that mean you didn’t get me something?” 

“Of course not.” 

“Well then, of course I had to get you something, git,” Draco said, rolling his eyes. A quick _accio_ and Harry’s brightly wrapped gift was sitting in front of them. 

“Did you purposely wrap it in Slytherin colors?” Harry asked, poking at the package softly. 

“Of course.” 

A wicked smile crossed Harry’s face as he cast his own summoning spell and a scarlet red package with gold trimmings flew in front of them. 

“Prat,” Draco muttered, unsuccessfully hiding his own smile. 

“Let’s open them together, so we don’t have one of those awkward moments where we stare at each other thinking, ‘oh my God, is he going to hate it?’” 

“Good idea, Potter.” 

“I’m full of them. On the count of three then?” 

Draco nodded, listening to Harry’s smooth voice count down the numbers slowly. On the sound of one, he quickly tore open the brilliant wrapping paper to reveal an intricately carved wooden box. 

Draco tilted his head, fingering the box softly as if it was a flower. The images on it were beautiful, delicate serpents winding around cherry blossom trees, a serene lake in the background. He realized that they were moving as well, the snakes slithering up and down the trunks of the billowing trees and the lake stirring calmly. It was breathtaking. 

“It’s a jewelry box,” Harry said casually, unable to hide the nervousness in his voice, “I noticed you have a lot of cufflinks and what not, but not a proper place to put them, so I figured it would be a good present - I can get you something else if you’d like -” 

“Shut up,” Draco whispered. 

“What?” 

“Shut. Up. It’s perfect.” 

“Oh. Um, good then.” 

“Where on Earth did you find it?” Draco whispered, finally mustering up the will to open his prized possession, revealing an interior of emerald green velvet. 

Harry cleared his throat, “I made it.” 

Draco’s head shot up quickly, “don’t lie to me.” 

Harry blushed softly, “‘m not. I took up wood carving over the summer, it was something to do other than master wordless spells. I used to draw, before Hogwarts, so that helps with the artistic portion.” 

“Well that’s bloody unfair.” 

Harry laughed, “what do you mean?” 

“You’re the perfect example of a human specimen, it’s annoying,” Draco finally looked at Harry’s lap, where his present sat unwrapped, “you prat. You didn’t open my present!” 

“I was too nervous,” Harry smiled, then fingered the silver bow that hung from the beautifully wrapped gift, untying it slowly. 

“You realize I have to do the awkward staring thing now, and you’re gift is so cool and now I’ve got to compete with that,” Draco complained. 

Harry rolled his eyes, “you probably got me something far more ‘cool’, now shut up and let me open my present.” 

It seemed like years before the item was actually unwrapped from it’s green paper, an agonizingly long wait for Draco. To his pleasure, Harry seemed just as wordless as Draco had been with his gift. 

“I can’t accept this,” Harry whispered, staring down at his present. 

“You have to. It would be rude not to,” Draco snapped. 

Harry snorted, “really, this is too expensive. You spent too much-” 

“No, I didn’t. You have, for whatever reason, welcomed me into your home with open arms and treated me as an equal. Money's no object for someone who would do that for the likes of me.” 

Harry looked as if he was about to spring into one of his lengthy speeches about how Draco deserved everything that was being given to him, but must have been reminded of their agreement to save their bickering for after the holidays, because he just smiled. 

The present, in Draco’s opinion, was no match for what Harry had given him. It might as well had been a dirty sock, but for whatever reason, Harry was staring at it as if was a pile of gold. 

It wasn’t, of course, a pile of gold would be an odd and overly flashy gift. No, it was a chain of platinum gold, delicately made to resemble vines. Draco had had apprehensions when he ordered it, worried that Harry would find it too feminine or odd of Draco to buy him jewelry. He did so anyways, because he couldn’t get the image of it out of his mind. The design was simple enough to explain to the Malfoy family jeweler, and it had came out perfect. 

What made it so irrevocably _Harry_ was the tiny snitch that clasped it together. It was enchanted to flutter it’s wings when it was worn, and Draco had added a few other choice spells to make sure no one else would be able to wear it. It was Harry’s and only Harry’s. 

“It’s beautiful,” Harry whispered, “I feel like it was made for me.” 

“Well, it kind of was,” Draco admitted, “I designed it, I didn’t make it of course, but I drew out what I wanted and Maurice went from there. Don’t let anyone try it on, unless you want them to lose a hand.” 

Harry began to laugh, but then nodded in understanding when he realized Draco wasn’t kidding. 

“Really, Draco, it’s perfect. Thank you,” he finally said. 

“It’s nothing,” he answered back, shoving Harry’s shoulder lightly. 

But to Harry, it was everything.


	12. Crave

**Crave**

New Year's festivities, much to Draco’s relief, were held at Grimmauld Place rather than the Weasley Lair. Of course, all the Weasleys were now roaming around the halls of his temporary “home” but at least he wasn’t out of his element. He also had Pansy there, which made everything ten times better. 

“You’re going to therapy sessions with a werewolf?” Pansy snorted. They were currently cuddling in Draco’s bed, something he missed dearly over break. Pansy was the best cuddler he knew, and nothing compared to the warm pressure of her body laying on top of him. 

“They’re actually quite helpful,” Draco admitted, “he’s really good. Very Gryffindor of him, really.” 

“What do you even talk about?” Pansy asked against his chest. 

“Loads of things, mostly the war. A bit about my childhood. My father’s death, my mother’s disappearance. That sort of thing.” 

“Have you heard from her?” Pansy whispered. 

Draco hesitated, but then nodded in answer, “she sent me a gift and a note on Christmas. She’s well.” 

“That’s good. Now let’s change the subject, please. What did Potter get you?” 

Draco found himself smiling against his will, “get off of me and I’ll show you.” 

Pansy groaned in defiance, but rolled herself off of him anyways. She sat up in his bed, her short black hair sticking up all over the place. 

“Fix your hair. You look like Potter.” 

“Wouldn’t want that, you’d probably try to come onto me.” 

“Shut up,” Draco laughed, “your boobs are too big, the difference is too much.” 

Pansy cupped her breasts in mock disgust, “how dare you look at my private areas! Pervert!” 

“It’s hard not to look when you’re wearing that,” Draco said, pointing at Pansy’s very low cut, very short, very skin tight, black dress. 

“If you got it,” Pansy began. 

“Flaunt it,” Draco sang back, “now, back to more important things. He made me this. Like, with his own hands. He carved it out of _wood._ ” 

“How grossly masculine,” Pansy whispered, but she was clearly awestruck by the outright beauty of Draco’s most prized possession. 

“Right?” Draco whispered back. He still hadn’t gotten over it, and it had been a week now since Harry presented it to him. It was now filled with his most pricey pieces of jewelry, for Draco couldn’t bare to put anything in it that wasn’t deserving. 

“That’s just completely unfair, innit?” Pansy finally said, setting the box down gently onto Draco’s bed. 

“That’s what I said! Of course the most powerful wizard in the world has to be talented and artistic as well! Who decides these things?” 

“I don’t know, but whoever it is had a sick sense of humor. Give the boy a fucked up life, but at least he can carve a masterpiece in some wood. He’s in love with you,” Pansy quickly added. 

Draco snorted, trying to hide the blush that crept up his face, “don’t be ridiculous.” 

“Someone who isn’t in love doesn’t just carve a fucking jewelry box for their pal, Draco. What did he get his other friends?” 

“He got Hermione the newest addition of _Hogwarts a History_ along with a new bottle of her favorite fragrance potion. Weasley got tickets to a Chudley Cannons game, I think.” 

“Odd, don’t you think, that his two best friends got very impersonal gifts, and you, the man he doesn’t love, got something that was literally hand crafted and basically made for you.” 

Draco frowned, “even if that were true, Harry is straight. Like, very straight.” 

“Has he told you that?” 

“Well, no. But he doesn’t have to, he dated Ginevra,” Draco pointed out. 

“Yes, and now I’m fucking Ginny. And she likes it quite a bit, I might add.” 

Draco wrinkled up his nose, “Pansy, love, spare me the details.” 

Pansy’s face broke out into a devilish grin, “all I’m saying, _darling_ , is that sexuality is very fluid. Potter might very well be batting for the other team, or both. The only way to know for sure is to ask him.” 

“Oh yes, let me just waltz right up to my former enemy and current crush and ask, ‘say, Potter, do you happen to like the thought of dick up your arse?’ Great idea, Panda.” 

“Oh Dragon, ever the melodramatic. Please, use your inner Slytherin for a moment. You don’t have to outright ask him to find out which way he swings.” 

Draco grimaced, “if he isn’t straight, which I’m almost positive he is, I don’t want to trick him into coming out.” 

Pansy cocked her head, “wow. You really do care about him.” 

Draco groaned, “please don’t remind me. I wish I just wanted to fuck him senseless and just move on, like I do usually. But no, I have to have actual _feelings_ for the prick.” 

Pansy mewled softly, petting Draco’s hair, “poor thing. Feelings are quite the nuisance.” 

“You would know all about that, Pansy,” Draco laughed. 

Pansy’s face flushed, “she’s just a good fuck.” 

“Yes, yes. I know. I will continue to agree with you until you finally come to your sense and realize that you are in love with a Weasley. No matter, I don’t mind playing your game.” 

“Shut it,” Pansy growled, then downed the last of her champagne, “it’s nearly midnight. Let’s get back to the party.” 

Draco hummed in agreement, not really wanting to move back downstairs which was more than likely to be crowded by Weasleys and a handful of other Gryffindors. It would be rude of course to hide away in his bedroom all night, but it was still tempting. 

* * *

“It’s nearly midnight,” Ron slurred, wrapping an arm around Harry’s shoulder. Harry could feel the warmth of his buzz radiating off of him. Usually Harry was comforted by it, it reminded him of good times in the Gryffindor common room getting drunk while the world was crashing down on the outside. Now it just made him nervous.

“Want to be my New Year’s kiss then?” Harry asked jokingly, desperately wanting to change the subject. 

“No, I’ve already got that covered,” Hermione said, appearing on the other side of Harry, just as buzzed and warm as her boyfriend. It seemed like Harry was the only one _not_ drinking at this party. 

“Remember promises made on Christmas Eve, my dear brother?” Ron asked, nudging Harry’s side. He was always referring to Harry as his brother when he got drunk, and it made Harry all kinds of warm and fuzzy on the inside. Now he was just annoyed. 

“Must we?” Harry groaned. 

“We don’t _have_ to. We aren’t sadists. You don’t have to tell us anything you don’t want to,” Hermione pointed out, “but that doesn’t mean you should be afraid to tell us. You’ll feel better, promise.” 

Harry frowned, “I seriously doubt that.” 

“Still denying it then?” Ron hiccuped. 

“No,” Harry lied. Of course he was denying it. First he had to come to terms that he was attracted to men, something he had pushed down for the vast majority of his life and now it was all surfaced and out in the open. Then, he had to come to terms with the fact that there was one man in particular who had caught his interest, and it happened to be his ex arch nemesis. Unfair, really, truthfully, unfair. 

“Suuuuuuureeeee,” Ron sang, beaming at Harry. He meant to make some sort of sly comment back, but his thoughts and words were overthrown by the loud chanting of a countdown. 

“Already?” Hermione screamed over the others. 

“You ready, ‘Mione?” Ron asked, waggling his eyebrows and abandoning Harry’s shoulder to take Hermione in his arms. 

_“Nine!”_

Harry looked around the room, watching as everyone coupled together. The Weasleys all with their significant others, Remus and Sirius, Luna and Neville, Dean and Seamus, everyone had someone to hold. 

_“Six!”_

Except one other person. 

_“Five!”_

They made eye contact, burning, unsettling eye contact. He was across the room, wearing those bloody trousers that fit him far too well and one of his signature button down tops. He was wearing a ridiculous tiara that Pansy had forced on him earlier in the night, and it sparkled bright pink in his platinum hair. 

_“Three!”_

He couldn’t stop staring, their eyes were locked and he could feel the tension, the want. It made his breath hitch and his head spin. 

_“Two!”_

And then he _smiled_ , the asshole had the nerve to smile that stupid smirk that ruffled Harry up to no end. And then Harry was walking over to him. 

_“One!”_

And then they were standing in front of each other, their eyes unmoving and their bodies tense. 

“Happy New Year!” The crowd bellowed, but Harry couldn't even hear them. 

Draco finally spoke as the couples began to kiss around them, “happy New Year, Potter.” 

Harry blanched, what was he doing? He hadn’t even realized he had glided over to him, and now he was standing in front of him while his friends and family made out like animals. So he did the only thing he could think to do, he reached out his hand for a high five. 

Draco raised an eyebrow. 

“Um… Happy New Year! High five?” Harry sputtered, _fuck._

Draco stared at him in disbelief, his mouth slightly agape, but then nodded, engaging in the awkward high five. 

Harry couldn’t believe what he just did. He couldn’t believe the last minute of his life, how on Earth did he think a bloody high five would be a good idea? After all that sexual tension and need that was obvious between them, and they he went and ruined it all with a _high five._

“I, um, better get back, c’ya later,” Harry rushed out, practically running from the scene of the crime. He left Draco staring in confusion. 

“That was a mess!” Ron exclaimed, patting Harry roughly on the back. 

“Shut it,” he grumbled. 

* * *

Things were awkward after New Years, and Draco really thought it couldn’t possibly get anymore awkward. He was wrong, of course, which was becoming a common theme in his life.

No, of course things had to get more awkward. They were back at Hogwarts now, Draco had nearly forgotten that the boy - the one he misread so horribly on New Years - was his bloody roommate. Meaning that Draco spent a majority of his time together. Meaning Draco saw him far more often than he wanted to. 

Okay, so maybe he didn’t mind the whole _seeing_ Harry thing, considering he couldn’t stop staring now. Not after the way Potter had looked at him during the New Years party, the way his eyes glazed over with need and want. Draco had thought, just for a moment, that his dreams were finally going to come true. Potter was going to kiss him as the clock struck midnight, and then they would fuck like rabbits whispering sweet nothings into each other’s ears all night long. 

Instead, he got a high five. A bloody high five. What were they? Ten year olds that just won the little league quidditch match? 

No. They were Draco and Harry, two boys who were doomed to being nothing but “bros” for the rest of eternity. 

“Damn I wish Potter had just sucked it up and kissed you,” Pansy groaned on the third day back from break. 

“He wasn’t going to kiss me,” Draco mumbled, pressing his quill a bit too hard into his parchment. It tore a hole in his assignment, making him even angrier. 

“Yeah, he was. Saw it with my own two, beautiful eyes. Ginny saw it too,” Pansy said, stuffing her face with one of Draco’s chocolate biscuits. 

“Those are mine,” Draco whined. 

“I’m not going to let you develop type 2 diabetes from eating all this chocolate just because you’re upset.” 

“What the bloody hell is type 2 diabetes?” 

Pansy shrugged, “Hermione said her grandpa has it. Some sort of muggle disease you get from eating too many sweets.” 

Draco dropped his half eaten chocolate bar abruptly, deciding it wasn’t worth the risk. 

“Anyways, Hermione and I have a little something planned to, ah how do I say it? Ease things forward?” 

Draco narrowed his eyes, “please don’t go meddling into my non-existent love life.” 

Pansy hummed, examining her nails, “somebody has to. Hermione is going insane with how Potter has been acting, and I with you. Something has to happen.” 

“How has be been acting?” Draco asked quickly, turning bright red. 

Pansy raised an eyebrow, “like he offered his crush a high five instead of bloody kissing him. Honestly Draco, are you that oblivious? He can’t even look at you without turning Gryffindor red.” 

Draco snorted but averted his eyes from Pansy’s gaze. He wasn’t going to let her see the hope unravel under his stoic expression, hope wasn’t something he could afford. Not when it came to someone like Potter. 

“Since you aren’t going to ask what we have planned, I guess I’ll have to tell you,” Pansy sighed, flopping herself down on top of Draco, “we’ve planned another party.” 

Draco frowned, “are you forgetting how the last party ended?” 

“Just don’t drink,” Pansy shrugged, “or maybe do drink. You’re much more loose lipped when you do.” 

Draco scowled, “I don’t even know if I want to go.” 

“Oh, you’re going. This party was developed for you and Potter. We might as well name it The Malfoy-Potter Get Together Spectacular. You aren’t skipping out on this.” 

Draco pushed his friend off gently so that he could sit up in his bed, “we aren’t going to get together.” 

Pansy frowned, “love, you’re so pessimistic. Why on Earth wouldn’t you?” 

Draco ground his teeth, “how many times do I have to tell you, the git is straight!” 

“He didn’t look very heterosexual when he was undressing you with his eyes on New Years!” 

“He wasn’t undressing me with his eyes, and if he was it was just because he was lonely and everyone around him had someone to kiss. That’s all.” 

“Remember how you said you don’t mind playing games with me? Well I mind. Stop pretending like you don’t see what’s going on right in front of you, I know you aren’t oblivious!” 

“Pansy, please drop it.” 

“No! Not until you tell me why you aren’t letting yourself have this! You know it’s an option, if you just tried a little bit-” 

“I don’t deserve him,” he finally ground out, “okay? I don’t deserve the bloody savior of the world.” 

“Oh, Draco, love, of course you do. It’s not like he’s perfect either-” 

“You said it yourself!” Draco pointed out, “you said he was perfect, after I showed you the present he made me.” 

“Merlin, I didn’t mean that! Are you forgetting what’s under your shirt?” she asked, pointing a harsh finger at Draco’s chest. 

Draco immediately paled, “I told you not to bring that up. Ever.” 

“Well you seem to think that Harry Potter is some sort of saint, which he isn’t, so I’m reminding you!” 

Draco frowned, turning his head so that his friend couldn’t see the sad expression he couldn’t seem to hide. 

Pansy sighed quietly, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder, “Draco, he likes you. A lot. You have to let him do that, if not for yourself, for him. Please just go to the party. If what we have planned doesn’t work out, I’ll never make you talk about this again.” 

“And you’ll buy me a new Fendi belt,” Draco sniffed. 

He could practically hear Pansy’s eyes rolling, “fine. But I get to pick it out, you have such boring taste.” 

* * *


End file.
